Waiting for the interns to arrive

The idea was for Scott and I to come to Sierra Leone before the six college students so we could be prepared to lead them once they got here – instead of being just as confused, tired and overwhelmed as they will be (and as we once were) when they finally arrive. The plan has worked quite nicely for us – we flew in the same day as a short-term team that’s staying for about two weeks. They are a team of six teachers (all in their 20s) who have been doing seminars and co-teaching sessions with the COTN school teachers here in Sierra Leone – to train them in better teaching techniques.

Scott and I have been able to hang low and take everything about the country and culture in. We’ve gotten used to the four-hour time difference and the bucket baths, the sudden rainstorms and the rhythm of the Krio language. The heat, however, continues to still amaze and surprise us – especially because there’s no getting away from it. We have caught up on our sleep and et lag and have had some good bonding time with the local, national staff and the international staff that’s here – Arlene who is transitioning into the role of Sierra Leone liaison for COTN who I think might just be a white Sierra Leonean herself. She’s been with COTN working with and traveling to Sierra Leone for 11 years – since its start. She’s experienced the war, was flown out when the rebels took over Freetown and some of her dearest friends are national people. Watching her here in this culture you can se that she’s in her element – she’s home. Dave Spoon is the international staff member who is taking Arlene’s previous job of Sierra Leone Intern Coordinator. He’s learning, along with us, as much as he is able to soak in to his brain, heart and body about this country, its people and it culture. So, we learn together, which is good since we will work closely with these two in our time here.

The two weeks at first seemed a bit excessive to be here prior to the interns’ scheduled arrival, however the time has passed very quickly and has been much needed. We have sat back and watched how things are done, had impromptu meetings and planned ones to discuss summer camp, summer school, village ministry, personal projects, writing and photo needs. We’ve had the opportunity to ask Arlene every questions we can think from scheduling to cultural tabors. And we’ve had time to enjoy the people and moments around us without feeling rushed to photograph, write or abide to a strict schedule or check-off list. It has been quite nice and especially after the meeting today, we’re beginning to feel more confident and prepared for these six interns – their arrival, the work they will do and how exactly we will lead them here in Africa. I’m expecting, however, that the more scheduled day and the leadership role that we’ll automatically jump into will take a moment to get used to. But, that is what we came fro and that is what we look forward to. We wait, excited to see what God will do.

What its like living without running water: (Its not as bad as it sounds)

Peter is a student attending college who works for COTN. The job of this eager and friendly Sierra Leonean is fetching water for a houseful of people (that’s us) to use for drinking and bathing. Scott has already become good friends with Peter after helping him with this task quite often. You could spot the two hanging out by the water pipe quite a few times this week – Scott asking Peter question after question about his culture and life. Two or three times a day, Peter carries large buckets down the hill from the house, fills them with water and then carries them back to dump into the large water canisters which sit in the two bathrooms. This water is scooped out with a small pitcher for washing hands in the sink and for bathing.
The bathing process works like this: A bucket of water sits in the bathtub and the small pitcher is once again used – you soak down, lather up and rinse! Using the toilet is also a bit out of the norm, but after a week can you believe that we’re already somewhat used to it? First of all, you never flush pee. And for all other bathroom issues, you pick up the bucket sitting in the tub and pour about half of it into the toilet, which flushes whatever needed to be flushed down the pipe. Use the small pitcher to wash your hands and you’re golden. Now, if this process was being done in an outhouse, it would be a totally different story. But, in this house, we’ve gotten used to living without running water. And the nice thing about there being no hot water is that here in Sierra Leone, you ALWAYS want the water to be cold.

Written June 12

Our home in Freetown

The COTN guesthouse where we are staying in Freetown is like an oasis on a hill. That’s how it felt when we drove up to it on the night we arrived and that’s the way it feels each time I return to it after being out. Located in a section of the cty called Marjary Town, it is two stories – the upper part is rented for the COTN Country Director for Sierra Leone and the bottom part is for teams that come to serve. Three rooms stocked with bunk beds, mosquito nets and clothes lines make up most of the house along with a large living room area, a kitchen and two balconies that provide a spanning view of houses, people and the Atlantic Ocean in the distance. The house is surrounded by a cinderblock wall, which is coated in barbed wire – a warning that you can never be too cautious in this country.

Though the house is piped for running water, it no longer works properly due to construction in the area and other reasons we’re not really sure of (this is Africa, remember). For this reason, we’ve already started our bucket bathing, which we will be doing once we leave the city as well. And, I’ll tell you, its not nearly as bad as I expected -- honestly. It just makes bathing a much bigger ordeal and process than it is at home – that explanation will come in a bit. This house sits just outside the COTN compound, which consists of housing, a church and a primary school. Up until about a year ago, COTN housed about 80 orphans on the compound who went to the school and church. After acquiring land and building a school and living facilities outside the capital in the chiefdom of Banta Mokelleh, COTN decided to move all the orphans there. This allows them much more space to live and a better environment in which to grow up. The school and church in Freetown are still part of COTN’s ministry. The children that attend the school, however, live with their families nearby. Eventually, COTN will not rent this “oasis” house for teams anymore and simply use the old children’s facilities for teams that come to serve here in the city. I’m happy we got to experience this open and airy home, however. It has added all the more the experience of Sierra Leone.

Right now I sit outside on one of the balconies. The noises around me I’ve gotten used to easily, but they still make me laugh at the extreme difference from our home in America. Children are playing loudly in a yard nearby where an occasional scream or cry breaks out while the Krio language echoes here and there. A rooster crows, though its not sunrise, rice simmers in a pot and someone is hammering wood. Birds and mosquitoes chirp and buzz in my ear. Though the day was hot and humid, the breeze now cools me off and I hope for it to last into the night so sleeping is not so sticky. It has been relaxing, being here early. Watching how this culture works and lives -- trying to take it all in and understand, talking about the differences and becoming familiar with the joy that so many of these people have in their smiles and hearts.

Written on June 12

Party on the water

In order to get to Freetown from the airport, a strip of water must be crossed. This can be done by ferry, hovercraft or helicopter (when they’re working, which isn’t currently). Our way across was the ferry – a large vessel that holds the vehicles on the bottom deck and the people (with a special first class ticket) on the top, indoors. Scott and I were not expecting a party when we entered the large room, but we were soon in the middle of the mini celebration as we traveled to the capital. We were surrounded by people – talking on the phone, laughing with friends, drinking cokes from the snack bar in the back. Music videos from the 1980s were blaring from the TV in front of us, helping to distract from the heat in the room. The “DJ” would stop them halfway and switch to a new song every few minutes. It wasn’t until later that Quami explained the music videos were for sale and this showing was just a sample of what you could buy. In the mix of the mostly African and Caribbean selection was Whitney Houston’s I Believe the Children Are the Future, Michael Jackson’s We Are The World and Paul Simon Live. The whole experience was really just hilarious. To top it off, three slapstick comedians came out in clown outfits to entertain for a few minutes and take up a collection from a laughing audience at the end. As we got closer to the shore, we made our way onto the deck in the darkness. We stood in a makeshift line next to women carrying fruit on their heads and babies on their backs, travelers from our flight, men returning from work and truck drivers accompanying their loads across the river. We were just faces in the crowd to this group going about their night. Just observers, trying to record and store away everything we were seeing around us.

Our Introduction

It’s only been one short day and suddenly, we’ve been exposed to a whole new world. It’s amazing how you can get on an airplane in one environment and step off it in one that you never imagined existed. In the movies or even a TV documentary, sure, but real life?

Our flight landed at dusk in the middle of the jungle and lush landscape of Sierra Leone. We watched the green palms and mountains as we approached. The long winding river and the Atlantic Ocean that borders the country seemed like the stereotype of Africa and yet here it was, in front of us. We landed near a small airport – and finally, when we stepped off the aircraft, we believed that we were actually here in this foreign place.

It was dark by the time we got through customs. And dark in a third-world country without much electricity is a whole lot different than dark in America. I know Scott and I looked like deer caught in headlights as we emerged from customs, rolling carts full of way too much luggage with way too much photo gear, looking for someone or something familiar. In the maze of Africans and signs and taxi drivers all wanting our attention and speaking a language we could not understand (not to mention that we stuck out like a sore thumb), we found our COTN contact, Quami. The tall, buff, thirty-something African – who must have the friendliest smile in all of Sierra Leone – was an answer to some desperate prayer and a huge relief to these two tired travelers. He guided us through the crowd to the small taxi where our luggage was soon overflowing from the trunk. We stuffed ourselves and our belongings into the backseat, curious as to what would happen next.

The darkness overtook the shacks and homes and people that we passed until our eyes adjusted. But, when they did, we felt as though we were in a movie – the jungle on either side of us with homes and people standing and walking intermingled. “It feels like we’re in an Indiana Jones movie or something,” Scott said to me under his breath. The most surreal part of the entire ride was when our taxi driver set up his portable DVD player on the dashboard of the car. Not only was the movie Pearl Harbor, but it had Chinese subtitles. So, we’re shocked at the poverty out our windows as the wind whips in our faces, sweaty bodies crammed into the back of a small vehicle with our bags piled on top of us. We see, for the first time, Sierra Leone in the pitch black (which makes everything a little more eery) with a reggae rap soundtrack blaring from the car radio and then continue to catch scenes out of the corners of our eyes from this American movie.

What?

We just hung on and tried to take it all in. It was part of the experience that I wouldn’t trade. The best was yet to come, though. The ferry ride to reach the city and then, just a small tropical storm to bid us to sleep.

A few cultural teachings from Koi:

• Children are instructed not to make direct eye contact with adults out of respect.
• A woman almost always does the cooking in the home. If a man is seen cooking, it shows that he is not dominant in the household.
• Always eat a little (even if you’re full) of what someone else has prepared for you – out of respect.
• Sierra Leoneans’ order of priorities are: family, community, region and then country. Their mentality focuses on what's best for the group, not necessarily for the individual.

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A plane ride to Africa

Koi sits down next to us on the plane. We ask him his reasoning for flying to Sierra Leone. He looks at us in surprise and says, “I’m from there.” And so begins a long question and answer period he allows us to control – about his country, his people, his customs. We soon realize that everything we’ve read and watched on videos is very real in Sierra Leone – for here is proof in the flesh sitting right next to us. He tells of his family of seven siblings plus two that were adopted after they lost their parents in the war. He tells of living in multiple refugee camps and stealing food from nearby farmers for the necessity of nourishment. He shares of his brother who had to flee the country because the rebels were after him. He says he doesn’t worry about much now in his country – because after going through the war, “nothing could be worse.”

But Koi is also an introduction to the Sierra Leonean people for us – his warm smile and friendly face are kind to the two curious Americans who know no more about his country and his people than a Hollywood movie about diamonds and a website that lists population statistics. He tells us we will love Sierra Leone and his pride for his country is evident in how he speaks and in the details he shares. He is polite and continues to warn us about cultural characteristics that we may not know.

His mother sells palm oil at a market in the village where he grew up. He says it was only through a micro loan from an international organization that she was able to earn the money to pay for him to attend college – his gratefulness is quite evident in his demeanor and the way in which he tells us his story.

I wonder, as I look into this young man’s eyes, what has he seen? What does he have in his history and childhood that my safe and secure American mind can’t even imagine? Where has he been? And what does he think of us?

He assures us, once he finds out that we’re Americans, that he likes Americans. “The British are too stiff,” He tells us, laughing.

I’m always amazed at how we can be a communicating world – so small now with the Internet – and yet still struggle to relate with and fully understanding certain people and cultures far away. It’s hard to believe such countries even exist when they are not in our daily lives. But, in person, suddenly there is a whole new perspective. Koi is here sitting next to us – a native of this African country we had never even heard of until a few years ago. His stories are very real and this place – his home – will soon be more than just “a poor country in Africa” to us.

We begin our journey…