Sweet Salone
Sunday, 9 June
I went out for a walk (I'm trying to find a suitable place to run), but it's impossible to walk alone...people come up asking to be my friend and feel the need to tell me their life story and how I, an American with limitless wealth, can help them with some urgent need.
Moses picked us up for church shortly after 9 and led us about ten minutes past the Wilberforce round-a-bout to the Wilberforce Village New Jerusalem Assemblies of God church. We witnessed just about every human emotion possible in the span of a marathon four hours of worship. I'll describe it in detail later when my laptop battery isn't threatening to run out.
Ola, who had stayed behind doing housework , had prepared rice with a fish and chicken sauce for us, which we devoured, picking our way around the fish bones. After eating the few cookies we had remaining from Saturday, Sara and I both took a nap, exhausted from the church experience.
I tried to take a shower that afternoon using a bucket of water that Ola fetched - she refuses to let us help her with any of the housework, even if it something for us. Things didn't go so well with the "shower" and I concluded that the person who invented running water and indoor plumbing deserves some sort of award. I'm an utter failure at the bucket bath, but did learn that a frisbee can be used to pour water over my head. I've yet to actually toss the disc around for fun, but it has been used for everything from a soap dish to a bug-squasher. Another great invention.
We then sat on the front porch reading and writing for about an hour. We've befriended two boys who are probably about five years old who like to hang around the porch and quietly stare at us, only occasionally talking. With Joshua and Ola both out and about, hunger overtook us again and we went to the roadside market stands and purchased a giant mango, a few bananas, a yellow grocery bag with four circular loaves of bread, and a round cookie package titled "Istanbul," which turned out to be chocolate icing in between large vanilla wafers. We weren't intending to purchase the "Istanbul" cookies, but the market lady wasn't too happy about giving us 4500 Le change - we gave her two 5000 Le for a 5500 Le purchase, so it was easier to buy another item than to insist on change. In addition to the usually filthy 500, 1000, 2000, 5000 and 10000 Leone bills, there are 50, 100 and 500 Leone coins. Most people use the coins but after barely using cash at home in the USA, I can't stand to have a pocket full of rattling coins. As a result, I always get stares when handing people a 5000 Le bill ( the smallest denomination you can get when you exchange money) for a 300 or 400 Le purchase. Then I just get coins as change. It's hopeless.
We returned to the house - getting a few stares and calls of "white man" and "white girl" - to eat our dinner of fruit, bread and cookies. We watched Samuel Dixon's "Through my eyes" video about the UK - he's from Freetown but was invited to the UK for a few months for a film project - and also one he did about Freetown entitled "Waiting for Change," which had some absolutely stunning still shots from the city. If I could take just a few photographs like that, I'd could go home happy - but my status as an outsider makes it nearly impossible.
Ola sat on the porch with us as we peered into the murky darkness occasionally illuminated by a passing car or taxi. We've seen some interesting taxis the last few days - one driver had removed his break-lights their usual position and placed them inside, filling the interior with red light when he braked. Another placed blue LED lights on the ends of his windshield wipers and kept the wipers on even though there was no rain in sight. Ola is 19 and hopes to study accounting at university; her boyfriend is a second year university student upcountry at Bo. She doesn't talk much and just laughs at most of our questions (and offers to help with the housework).
Moses and Joshua returned from a football match down at the barracks field. While we were both ready to go to bed, they wanted to take us to Paddy's, as there would be apparently be lots of other white people there on a Sunday night to party at the most popular Freetown club. The four of us - Moses, Joshua, Sara and myself - hopped in a taxi for the trip down the mountain from Wilberforce to Aberdeen, the touristy beach village where Paddy's is. The taxi felt like an old out of control roller coaster...we arrived at Paddy's around 11 and coughed a 10,000 Le entrance fee. Moses and Joshua stood there, waiting for us to pay for them as well, which ended up doing...we sat around for a bit drinking a bottle of Star, clearly having arrived too early. By 1 am, the place was packed with hundreds of wealthy Sierra Leoneans and four or five expats, some sitting around, others dancing. We spotted Eddie, from the US, who is working with a doctor at Port Loko, about an hour away, but is currently in Aberdeen for a two-week conference on malnutrition. I'll write more on Paddy's later - it certainly does not mesh with the rest of poverty-stricken Freetown.
By 3 am Sara and I were ready for bed, and while Joshua and Moses where just getting started, we convinced them to leave. We left Paddy's, bartered a taxi ride home for 8000 Le and finally went to bed after a day full of happy people - at Paddy's and at church - who had clearly put the war behind them.
Saturday, 9 June
After going to the barracks market with Ola, Moses led us down from the barracks at Wilberforce to the National Stadium, a twenty minute trek essentially straight down what could only be described as a rocky mountain path in between concrete block and corrugated aluminum houses. Sara and I devoured a few bananas - we tried to keep the peels and the plastic bag the market lady had placed them in, but Moses had us throw it on the ground...Freetown often seems like a giant garbage heap.
We arrived at the center around noon - nothing much was happening at the center and neither of us felt like initiating anything, so we went out to the internet cafe to do some research for a grant Andrew had received from the Global Campaign against Small Arms. We went to the Pride Restaurant (attached to the internet cafe - both are above a gas station); I had a Coca-Cola and Sara had Bitter Lemon. We walked over to the National Movement for Justice and Development, a local NGO, in search of a friend from the BA flight to Freetown, but she wasn't around. We ended up just buying a few cartons of imported cookies; our current favorite is "Jingles," chocolate filled wafers from Brazil.
We returned to the center where Sara moderated a girls club meeting while I did some photo and video editing; I also worked with one of the students on making a short film about slavery. He's writing the script and the scenes; I'm just supplying the equipment and the occasional hint.
Around 5 pm, Sara and I found a taxi ride home to Wilberforce for about 5000 Le, which is still rather expensive, but the best we could manage to negotiate, even after beginning to walk away. Next time we'll have to pound on the roof for added emphasis. We bought some more bottled water and ate a papaya and avocado. We were supposed to meet Dara, a Stanford graduate student doing research, for dinner, but she was sick so had to postpone. Joshua and Ola had both gone out, so we ventured over to Wilberforce from the barracks in search of food. We ended up at Mamba Point Restuarant, an oasis of western luxury in the middle of a slum. It was extravagant - and expensive; we just about ran out of money as we only had 40,000 Le between the two of us.
After a fantastic dinner we walked the half mile back to Joshua's house. The road was lit only by car lights, and as a result I walked into a rather large hole in the side of the road while trying to figure out a poorly worded HIV prevention sign. We said hello to Joshua and Ola and promptly collapsed into their beds.
I went out for a walk (I'm trying to find a suitable place to run), but it's impossible to walk alone...people come up asking to be my friend and feel the need to tell me their life story and how I, an American with limitless wealth, can help them with some urgent need.
Moses picked us up for church shortly after 9 and led us about ten minutes past the Wilberforce round-a-bout to the Wilberforce Village New Jerusalem Assemblies of God church. We witnessed just about every human emotion possible in the span of a marathon four hours of worship. I'll describe it in detail later when my laptop battery isn't threatening to run out.
Ola, who had stayed behind doing housework , had prepared rice with a fish and chicken sauce for us, which we devoured, picking our way around the fish bones. After eating the few cookies we had remaining from Saturday, Sara and I both took a nap, exhausted from the church experience.
I tried to take a shower that afternoon using a bucket of water that Ola fetched - she refuses to let us help her with any of the housework, even if it something for us. Things didn't go so well with the "shower" and I concluded that the person who invented running water and indoor plumbing deserves some sort of award. I'm an utter failure at the bucket bath, but did learn that a frisbee can be used to pour water over my head. I've yet to actually toss the disc around for fun, but it has been used for everything from a soap dish to a bug-squasher. Another great invention.
We then sat on the front porch reading and writing for about an hour. We've befriended two boys who are probably about five years old who like to hang around the porch and quietly stare at us, only occasionally talking. With Joshua and Ola both out and about, hunger overtook us again and we went to the roadside market stands and purchased a giant mango, a few bananas, a yellow grocery bag with four circular loaves of bread, and a round cookie package titled "Istanbul," which turned out to be chocolate icing in between large vanilla wafers. We weren't intending to purchase the "Istanbul" cookies, but the market lady wasn't too happy about giving us 4500 Le change - we gave her two 5000 Le for a 5500 Le purchase, so it was easier to buy another item than to insist on change. In addition to the usually filthy 500, 1000, 2000, 5000 and 10000 Leone bills, there are 50, 100 and 500 Leone coins. Most people use the coins but after barely using cash at home in the USA, I can't stand to have a pocket full of rattling coins. As a result, I always get stares when handing people a 5000 Le bill ( the smallest denomination you can get when you exchange money) for a 300 or 400 Le purchase. Then I just get coins as change. It's hopeless.
We returned to the house - getting a few stares and calls of "white man" and "white girl" - to eat our dinner of fruit, bread and cookies. We watched Samuel Dixon's "Through my eyes" video about the UK - he's from Freetown but was invited to the UK for a few months for a film project - and also one he did about Freetown entitled "Waiting for Change," which had some absolutely stunning still shots from the city. If I could take just a few photographs like that, I'd could go home happy - but my status as an outsider makes it nearly impossible.
Ola sat on the porch with us as we peered into the murky darkness occasionally illuminated by a passing car or taxi. We've seen some interesting taxis the last few days - one driver had removed his break-lights their usual position and placed them inside, filling the interior with red light when he braked. Another placed blue LED lights on the ends of his windshield wipers and kept the wipers on even though there was no rain in sight. Ola is 19 and hopes to study accounting at university; her boyfriend is a second year university student upcountry at Bo. She doesn't talk much and just laughs at most of our questions (and offers to help with the housework).
Moses and Joshua returned from a football match down at the barracks field. While we were both ready to go to bed, they wanted to take us to Paddy's, as there would be apparently be lots of other white people there on a Sunday night to party at the most popular Freetown club. The four of us - Moses, Joshua, Sara and myself - hopped in a taxi for the trip down the mountain from Wilberforce to Aberdeen, the touristy beach village where Paddy's is. The taxi felt like an old out of control roller coaster...we arrived at Paddy's around 11 and coughed a 10,000 Le entrance fee. Moses and Joshua stood there, waiting for us to pay for them as well, which ended up doing...we sat around for a bit drinking a bottle of Star, clearly having arrived too early. By 1 am, the place was packed with hundreds of wealthy Sierra Leoneans and four or five expats, some sitting around, others dancing. We spotted Eddie, from the US, who is working with a doctor at Port Loko, about an hour away, but is currently in Aberdeen for a two-week conference on malnutrition. I'll write more on Paddy's later - it certainly does not mesh with the rest of poverty-stricken Freetown.
By 3 am Sara and I were ready for bed, and while Joshua and Moses where just getting started, we convinced them to leave. We left Paddy's, bartered a taxi ride home for 8000 Le and finally went to bed after a day full of happy people - at Paddy's and at church - who had clearly put the war behind them.
Saturday, 9 June
After going to the barracks market with Ola, Moses led us down from the barracks at Wilberforce to the National Stadium, a twenty minute trek essentially straight down what could only be described as a rocky mountain path in between concrete block and corrugated aluminum houses. Sara and I devoured a few bananas - we tried to keep the peels and the plastic bag the market lady had placed them in, but Moses had us throw it on the ground...Freetown often seems like a giant garbage heap.
We arrived at the center around noon - nothing much was happening at the center and neither of us felt like initiating anything, so we went out to the internet cafe to do some research for a grant Andrew had received from the Global Campaign against Small Arms. We went to the Pride Restaurant (attached to the internet cafe - both are above a gas station); I had a Coca-Cola and Sara had Bitter Lemon. We walked over to the National Movement for Justice and Development, a local NGO, in search of a friend from the BA flight to Freetown, but she wasn't around. We ended up just buying a few cartons of imported cookies; our current favorite is "Jingles," chocolate filled wafers from Brazil.
We returned to the center where Sara moderated a girls club meeting while I did some photo and video editing; I also worked with one of the students on making a short film about slavery. He's writing the script and the scenes; I'm just supplying the equipment and the occasional hint.
Around 5 pm, Sara and I found a taxi ride home to Wilberforce for about 5000 Le, which is still rather expensive, but the best we could manage to negotiate, even after beginning to walk away. Next time we'll have to pound on the roof for added emphasis. We bought some more bottled water and ate a papaya and avocado. We were supposed to meet Dara, a Stanford graduate student doing research, for dinner, but she was sick so had to postpone. Joshua and Ola had both gone out, so we ventured over to Wilberforce from the barracks in search of food. We ended up at Mamba Point Restuarant, an oasis of western luxury in the middle of a slum. It was extravagant - and expensive; we just about ran out of money as we only had 40,000 Le between the two of us.
After a fantastic dinner we walked the half mile back to Joshua's house. The road was lit only by car lights, and as a result I walked into a rather large hole in the side of the road while trying to figure out a poorly worded HIV prevention sign. We said hello to Joshua and Ola and promptly collapsed into their beds.
posted by Paul at
11:33 AM
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