Liberia is in a phase of reinvention with a very ‘00s spin. Everything is about participatory-ness. Let’s hear from the “cross-cutting” issues of gender and HIV/AIDS while we plan which roads we need to build. Let’s take time to call the small number of entrepreneurs into a room with the Minister of Finance so that she can hear their concerns. Let’s acknowledge that there was a brutal war and lay our feelings on the table so we can move past it. Perhaps all of the touchy-feeliness is inevitable in a country whose new leadership spent most of their adulthood in the US, but it surprises me every time. Every other aspect of our setting drips with reminders that we are in Africa. (The UNICEF consultant leading the workshop I was in yesterday morning was literally drenched with sweat. His pants too—- where he’d rested his elbows on his knees when he sat down briefly.)
When I first traveled to Monrovia 6 months ago I had what I thought was a simple job: to write a new set of HIV/AIDS treatment guidelines. What a unique opportunity, I thought. To be involved in something from the beginning. But no. It turns out that there’s an opportunity like that just about every week: poverty reduction, social welfare, adoption, telecom, mining, education... The policies are all being started from nothing. It’s crazy. There’s scarcely been a law written here since 1979.
This week I am writing the Terms of Reference for a consultant to assist in creating a safe blood supply system. As far as I can tell I am one of two people in the country who is willing to put time into making this effort happen. It is not that the Ministry of Health or the government doesn’t care-- the Chief Medical Officer has expressed support for my activities when we’ve discussed them in private. But how many issues can take priority at one time? She’s got less than 40 doctors to serve the whole country. The infrastructure is lying in ruins around her. Blood supply? Yes, please make it safe for us. I have no pathologist to assign to your team. No hematologist. No modern transfusion laboratories. No money to pay for quality assurance or to advertise for voluntary blood donation. If you know anyone who is interested in helping-- yes, please have them come.
...
And they better come quick— cause we’re already onto the next plan. The Malaria Control Program had its workshop to develop its strategic framework yesterday. No doubt they started off their meeting with a song and a discussion of the impacts of the war as well.
Friday, December 14, 2007
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
alternative holiday gifts
If you celebrate year-end holidays by exchanging gifts, and if you, like me, dread the last-minute retail binge, try one of these sites:
www.globalgiving.com
www.kiva.org
What I love about these is that they allow you, very directly, to make a difference in someone else's life. According to a 2006 story in the Economist, Christmas/holiday spending by a typical US household is about $1600. Rather than consuming more books, toys, socks, sweaters, DVDs, books, and gadgets, why not ask for $25, $50, or even $100 of your gift to be given to someone who really, really, really needs it?
For the New Yorkers - I know you can do this. $25 is two drinks at one of the city's numerous overpriced bars. Give up a martini. Or two. It's not much to us, but a it goes a really long way in poor countries.
www.globalgiving.com
www.kiva.org
What I love about these is that they allow you, very directly, to make a difference in someone else's life. According to a 2006 story in the Economist, Christmas/holiday spending by a typical US household is about $1600. Rather than consuming more books, toys, socks, sweaters, DVDs, books, and gadgets, why not ask for $25, $50, or even $100 of your gift to be given to someone who really, really, really needs it?
For the New Yorkers - I know you can do this. $25 is two drinks at one of the city's numerous overpriced bars. Give up a martini. Or two. It's not much to us, but a it goes a really long way in poor countries.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
thanksgiving
A couple weeks ago, I celebrated Thanksgiving in Monrovia. Here are a few pictures, courtesy of our friends Jim and Amanda :
As you can see, our stovetop is, well, small.
We are extremely lucky to have an apartment large enough for 25ish:
Here are the two physicians, putting their surgical skills to good use:
And perhaps my favorite photo of the lot, here we are examining the Showtime Rotisserie. We did not, per Mr. Popeil's suggestion, "Set it and forget it."
As you can see, our stovetop is, well, small.
We are extremely lucky to have an apartment large enough for 25ish:
Here are the two physicians, putting their surgical skills to good use:
And perhaps my favorite photo of the lot, here we are examining the Showtime Rotisserie. We did not, per Mr. Popeil's suggestion, "Set it and forget it."
Saturday, December 1, 2007
East African underwater fiber-optic cable
On Monday, an IFC-led consortium announced the signing of loan agreements to build a new fiber optic cable along the eastern coast of Africa.
This is terrific news. Let's just hope they actually start it in mid-December, as planned. According to an article from Red Herring, construction had originally been scheduled to start in 2006.
The Red Herring article also mentions what I've heard a number of expats in Liberia say- that there *is* already a submarine fiber optic cable along Africa's western coast but that "Liberia doesn't have access." I don't have the full story yet, but it seems as though those who control the cable haven't done enough to improve sub-Saharan Internet access. For example, the cable "lands" at neither Freetown nor Monrovia.
More to come on this as I start digging around...
This is terrific news. Let's just hope they actually start it in mid-December, as planned. According to an article from Red Herring, construction had originally been scheduled to start in 2006.
The Red Herring article also mentions what I've heard a number of expats in Liberia say- that there *is* already a submarine fiber optic cable along Africa's western coast but that "Liberia doesn't have access." I don't have the full story yet, but it seems as though those who control the cable haven't done enough to improve sub-Saharan Internet access. For example, the cable "lands" at neither Freetown nor Monrovia.
More to come on this as I start digging around...
World Aids Day...
...is December 1. I'm sorry to say that I'm not doing much to commemorate, but check out this amazing 13 year-old kid, who has helped to raise more than $150,000 to build a school for AIDS orphans in Zambia:
Hope for AIDS orphans
So while he's motivated by his faith, and I'm not particularly religious, I feel somewhat heartened by people like him. He's an ordinary kid who has taken the time and effort to involve thousands of other ordinary kids. Together, they are helping someone other than themselves. Bravo.
Hope for AIDS orphans
So while he's motivated by his faith, and I'm not particularly religious, I feel somewhat heartened by people like him. He's an ordinary kid who has taken the time and effort to involve thousands of other ordinary kids. Together, they are helping someone other than themselves. Bravo.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
sunshine
My first morning back in Liberia. Rather than being jarred awake by workmen shouting and car doors slamming, I woke to chirping birds and sunshine! In August, I always groaned and covered my eyes in the morning, but today, I actually skipped around the apartment. Pete thinks I am nuts. We are, after all, in the tropics.
Here are our very bright "offices":
A few years ago, a close girlfriend of mine, M, got married in San Francisco. The morning after her wedding, M's aunt hosted a brunch in the East Bay. It was late May, and though it was bright enough, the temperature wasn't particularly high, and most of us wore jeans and t-shirts. M's British in-laws, however, paraded out in tank tops and shorts - one of the aunts actually sported a bikini top and some "Roman" sandals with straps that wrapped around her lower shins- and the rest of us snickered. It isn't even that hot, we thought.
Now, after two months of London's still, pale, gray, I completely understand. When everyday is cloudy, damp, and dark, *any* sunshine is cause for celebration.
Here are our very bright "offices":
A few years ago, a close girlfriend of mine, M, got married in San Francisco. The morning after her wedding, M's aunt hosted a brunch in the East Bay. It was late May, and though it was bright enough, the temperature wasn't particularly high, and most of us wore jeans and t-shirts. M's British in-laws, however, paraded out in tank tops and shorts - one of the aunts actually sported a bikini top and some "Roman" sandals with straps that wrapped around her lower shins- and the rest of us snickered. It isn't even that hot, we thought.
Now, after two months of London's still, pale, gray, I completely understand. When everyday is cloudy, damp, and dark, *any* sunshine is cause for celebration.
foreigner
Apologies (again) for my infrequent posting. I'm actually in Liberia right now, but I'll write a few posts about London.
One of the first things I noticed about my neighborhood was this:
*This* is considered American? This woman looks like she's out for blood. "Oh, I'll bring you another Margarita...after I kill you."
There's another "American" business nearby, a bit more innocuous:
I'm not sure yet what "American" means over here. With regard to restaurants, I'd imagine it means large portion size. But more broadly, I'm not sure what the Brits think of Americans in general. Shocked, no doubt, by our government's arrogance and naivety. No wait, that's what *I* think.
One of the first things I noticed about my neighborhood was this:
*This* is considered American? This woman looks like she's out for blood. "Oh, I'll bring you another Margarita...after I kill you."
There's another "American" business nearby, a bit more innocuous:
I'm not sure yet what "American" means over here. With regard to restaurants, I'd imagine it means large portion size. But more broadly, I'm not sure what the Brits think of Americans in general. Shocked, no doubt, by our government's arrogance and naivety. No wait, that's what *I* think.
Friday, October 26, 2007
Does this mean us?
Interesting article on BusinessWeek Online a few days ago, about "emerging leaders." I think it refers to leaders of our generation, and it is both scary and inspiring (but more of the latter). I'd like to hope that I'll live up to the author's expectations.
An excerpt of the text is below, and here's the link:
http://www.businessweek.com/managing/content/oct2007/ca20071018_468928.htm
Where Have All the Leaders Gone? [Part III]; Move over, baby boomers. The emerging leaders have a different set of experiences, expectations, and rules
Bill George
869 words
23 October 2007
BusinessWeek Online
English
Copyright 2007 McGraw-Hill, Inc.
When Jimmy Connors reached the top of the tennis world, reporters asked whether he could continue to beat the veterans. His blunt response: "I'm only worried about the young guys coming up behind me."
Well, baby boomers, watch out, because the emerging leaders are coming up fast behind you. Their approach to leadership is entirely different than yours. They don't care about position power, status, and organizational hierarchy, or even having followers. Instead, they are superb networkers who find collaborators to create opportunities and businesses. They are on line 24/7, always networking, always in touch. That's why Facebook and You Tube are so popular.
The emerging leaders are knowledge workers who typically know more than their bosses. They collaborate with people who have skills they don't. Growing up with diversity as the norm, they understand the benefits of diverse people working together to solve the world's most pressing problems.
Detest Corporate Politics
When considering large, well-established organizations, they see bureaucracy, layers of management, policies and procedures, and rules -- all things that scare them. At their core they are flexible, fast-moving, and innovative, and they don't want their creativity stifled. They detest corporate politics, as they want to be judged on their merits and have freedom to get things done.
Most important, they want to lead now and use their considerable skills to make a difference. They are highly confident about their abilities and won't wait in line for years to get their chance. They are willing to make great sacrifices to accomplish their goals. If current opportunities aren't satisfying, they won't hesitate to move to more appealing situations.
They anticipate long, active lives -- living well beyond 100 -- but want to make it now. They have a passion to change the world and aren't prepared to settle for less.
The Next Generation
Who are these new leaders? The leading edge includes fortysomethings like Randy Komisar, former chief executive of LucasArts, now at Kleiner Perkins; John Donahoe at eBay (EBAY); Donna Dubinsky, founder of Handspring and Numenta; Kent Thiry, who infused kidney-dialysis company DaVita with new life in 1999; Chip Conley, founder of Joie de Vivre Hotels; and Bruce Chizen, CEO of Adobe (ADBE). They follow in the footsteps of role models such as Howard Schultz, Bill Gates, and Michael Dell.
Let's take a closer look at some younger leaders who are ready to step onto the big stage:
-- Wendy Kopp had such passion for improving inner-city education that she founded Teach For America at only 22. With no money or management experience, she overcame enormous obstacles, including resistance from the educational establishment. Nevertheless, she survived early financial crises and created the most successful educational initiative in the past quarter-century, for which she was recognized as one of America's Best Leaders by Harvard's Kennedy School....
These emerging leaders understand that it takes collaboration among people with broad perspectives and passion to address the world's most challenging problems: health care, education, energy and the environment, poverty, and global peace. They are likely to become global citizens who can move comfortably among three major sectors -- government, for profit, and not-for-profit -- to get things done. Their passion for changing the world keeps them from letting established organizations or bureaucratic barriers stand in their way....
An excerpt of the text is below, and here's the link:
http://www.businessweek.com/managing/content/oct2007/ca20071018_468928.htm
Where Have All the Leaders Gone? [Part III]; Move over, baby boomers. The emerging leaders have a different set of experiences, expectations, and rules
Bill George
869 words
23 October 2007
BusinessWeek Online
English
Copyright 2007 McGraw-Hill, Inc.
When Jimmy Connors reached the top of the tennis world, reporters asked whether he could continue to beat the veterans. His blunt response: "I'm only worried about the young guys coming up behind me."
Well, baby boomers, watch out, because the emerging leaders are coming up fast behind you. Their approach to leadership is entirely different than yours. They don't care about position power, status, and organizational hierarchy, or even having followers. Instead, they are superb networkers who find collaborators to create opportunities and businesses. They are on line 24/7, always networking, always in touch. That's why Facebook and You Tube are so popular.
The emerging leaders are knowledge workers who typically know more than their bosses. They collaborate with people who have skills they don't. Growing up with diversity as the norm, they understand the benefits of diverse people working together to solve the world's most pressing problems.
Detest Corporate Politics
When considering large, well-established organizations, they see bureaucracy, layers of management, policies and procedures, and rules -- all things that scare them. At their core they are flexible, fast-moving, and innovative, and they don't want their creativity stifled. They detest corporate politics, as they want to be judged on their merits and have freedom to get things done.
Most important, they want to lead now and use their considerable skills to make a difference. They are highly confident about their abilities and won't wait in line for years to get their chance. They are willing to make great sacrifices to accomplish their goals. If current opportunities aren't satisfying, they won't hesitate to move to more appealing situations.
They anticipate long, active lives -- living well beyond 100 -- but want to make it now. They have a passion to change the world and aren't prepared to settle for less.
The Next Generation
Who are these new leaders? The leading edge includes fortysomethings like Randy Komisar, former chief executive of LucasArts, now at Kleiner Perkins; John Donahoe at eBay (EBAY); Donna Dubinsky, founder of Handspring and Numenta; Kent Thiry, who infused kidney-dialysis company DaVita with new life in 1999; Chip Conley, founder of Joie de Vivre Hotels; and Bruce Chizen, CEO of Adobe (ADBE). They follow in the footsteps of role models such as Howard Schultz, Bill Gates, and Michael Dell.
Let's take a closer look at some younger leaders who are ready to step onto the big stage:
-- Wendy Kopp had such passion for improving inner-city education that she founded Teach For America at only 22. With no money or management experience, she overcame enormous obstacles, including resistance from the educational establishment. Nevertheless, she survived early financial crises and created the most successful educational initiative in the past quarter-century, for which she was recognized as one of America's Best Leaders by Harvard's Kennedy School....
These emerging leaders understand that it takes collaboration among people with broad perspectives and passion to address the world's most challenging problems: health care, education, energy and the environment, poverty, and global peace. They are likely to become global citizens who can move comfortably among three major sectors -- government, for profit, and not-for-profit -- to get things done. Their passion for changing the world keeps them from letting established organizations or bureaucratic barriers stand in their way....
one year in...
Recently, The Carter Center and the Clinton Foundation celebrated their one year anniversaries in Liberia. The two organizations hosted a party at Barnes Beach in Monrovia for all expat and local staff and their families.
Highlights included a dance competiton (pictures to come -needless to say, the Liberians outdanced the Americans); potato sack (in this case, rice sack) races; water balloon tossing; and pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey accessories were created on site, but the sun went down before we could use them. Next year we'll have to start earlier.
Highlights included a dance competiton (pictures to come -needless to say, the Liberians outdanced the Americans); potato sack (in this case, rice sack) races; water balloon tossing; and pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey accessories were created on site, but the sun went down before we could use them. Next year we'll have to start earlier.
Monday, October 22, 2007
will travel, indeed
In the last 13 days, I've been in Frankfurt, San Francisco, New York, London, and Paris. Why? Some work, some play.
In California, I spent a few days at my 10-year college reunion. (Pictures above, courtesy of my friend Jenn: http://jennsjourneys.blogspot.com/.
I'd love to report that I felt an extraordinary sense of connection to my classmates; that formerly vapid peers have evolved into deeply interesting, thoughtful, adults; that I left the event feeling energized and motivated to change the world -
- but I'd be lying.
There were a few bright spots - seeing dear friends, making a couple new, meaningful connections- but for the most part, I left feeling overwhelmed, insecure, and tired. Ever the optimist, I can't help but think that, as one of the organizers, we could have done more to help people connect more effectively...but how?
After two nights back in London, I was off to Paris. Ah, Paris. On a weekend during which some 50,000 tourists flooded the city for the Rugby World Cup Final, the transit workers were on strike. Seats on the trains that arrived before kick-off (is it even called that?) were £300. That's not a typo: three hundred pounds. With the entire country, apparently, traveling to watch their beloved team play South Africa, it's a miracle I got in at all.
On Sunday, we visited the gourmet supermarket, but of course, it was closed.
At some other stores, I did, however, manage to buy a nice sack of sea salt, a couple bottles of wine, a jar of terrine, a box of dark chocolates, and some lovely French honey. I was smirking at the cleverness of my arbitrage (so much cheaper than the UK!) until I realized that I would have to check everything to fly back. I stuffed all the food and wine in my backpack, put my laptop, iPod, and keys in a plastic grocery bag, and felt sheepish.
In California, I spent a few days at my 10-year college reunion. (Pictures above, courtesy of my friend Jenn: http://jennsjourneys.blogspot.com/.
I'd love to report that I felt an extraordinary sense of connection to my classmates; that formerly vapid peers have evolved into deeply interesting, thoughtful, adults; that I left the event feeling energized and motivated to change the world -
- but I'd be lying.
There were a few bright spots - seeing dear friends, making a couple new, meaningful connections- but for the most part, I left feeling overwhelmed, insecure, and tired. Ever the optimist, I can't help but think that, as one of the organizers, we could have done more to help people connect more effectively...but how?
After two nights back in London, I was off to Paris. Ah, Paris. On a weekend during which some 50,000 tourists flooded the city for the Rugby World Cup Final, the transit workers were on strike. Seats on the trains that arrived before kick-off (is it even called that?) were £300. That's not a typo: three hundred pounds. With the entire country, apparently, traveling to watch their beloved team play South Africa, it's a miracle I got in at all.
On Sunday, we visited the gourmet supermarket, but of course, it was closed.
At some other stores, I did, however, manage to buy a nice sack of sea salt, a couple bottles of wine, a jar of terrine, a box of dark chocolates, and some lovely French honey. I was smirking at the cleverness of my arbitrage (so much cheaper than the UK!) until I realized that I would have to check everything to fly back. I stuffed all the food and wine in my backpack, put my laptop, iPod, and keys in a plastic grocery bag, and felt sheepish.
Saturday, October 13, 2007
Peter's first post
Since my first ever post to this blog has taken longer than expected to appear, I've felt more and more pressure to make it an interesting one. Please find attached a clip from the finale of the Liberian National AIDS Control Program (NACP) retreat—one of the real high points of my 2 months in Monrovia.
The Clinton Foundation hired me to work with the NACP as the Advisor to the Program Manager. The position arose directly from a request by the Minister of Health, who felt that the Program needed additional direction and expertise. The NACP's been a bit dysfunctional for quite some time-- a situation that is problematic for the Ministry as a lot of donor cash is flowing through the AIDS programs. Used strategically, that cash could be leveraged to rebuild much of the crumbled healthcare system. In an example of bad leveraging, some fancy CD4 machines (for HIV diagnostics) are about to get delivered up country to hospitals that lack air-conditioned, dust free rooms to house them. Hmmm. Not a great idea. They are finicky machines anyway and will not last long in a room like that. With better planning, the powers-that-be might have recognized that the same money could have been prioritized to renovate the room and by multiples of more basic lab machines that would benefit that many more patients. And, along the same lines, put some money aside to ensure than maintenance and reagents for the machines will be provided. Everyone believes in this logic (the donors too). But they all must be reminded of it constantly.
Among many other activities, my colleagues and I play that delicate role of the Reminder. We are the "trusted advisors" of people who run significant programs (or, in the case of some friends, Ministries) in this government. It's the most challenging and rewarding job that I could ever ask for. After way too many years, I am amazed to realize that I have reached the position that I have been training for.
We have to be very careful to speak quietly, though. It might feel like we are running our programs, but there is a manager or minister whose job is on the line and any decision is ultimately theirs to make. At many meetings, I have to make a conscious decision as to whether it is more appropriate to speak as NACP or as Clinton Foundation.
The retreat that you will see in the video occurred a couple of weeks ago. NACP is saddled with what Callista calls “classic” organization problems. Suffice it to say that I was fairly dubious that any retreat could solve our numerous issues. Then, we recruited our friend Pewee, who normally works for the Liberian office of the Carter Center, to facilitate the meeting. (He is mentioned, and maybe even pictured in some of Callista’s earlier posts.)
Pewee was amazing. He brought energy and enthusiasm into a room full of skepticism. He broke the ice with songs and non-traditional ways of clapping/showing appreciation for your colleagues that Americans would do well to learn from (see second video). And in the end, he brokered peace deals among the warring parties. They are singing a closing song, the words of which are "Tomorrow, tomorrow, what will they say?" punctuated by saying someone's name after the refrain. At the end they are singing: "NACP, what will you say?" Pewee is in the white shirt in the middle of the group. The second video is of everyone giving themselves Pewee's much more active version of a round of applause...
No, the work is not done. The strategy for expanding quality access to HIV prevention, care and treatment is a work in progress, but we—the staff of the NACP-- are, at least for the moment, tenuously moving forward in the same direction.
(Re: the video-- a disclaimer: I did it with my point and shoot camera and there's a bit too much panning around. At the end I am trying to show the setting of the retreat. It doesn't come out, but we are just above the beach overlooking the Atlantic. )
The Clinton Foundation hired me to work with the NACP as the Advisor to the Program Manager. The position arose directly from a request by the Minister of Health, who felt that the Program needed additional direction and expertise. The NACP's been a bit dysfunctional for quite some time-- a situation that is problematic for the Ministry as a lot of donor cash is flowing through the AIDS programs. Used strategically, that cash could be leveraged to rebuild much of the crumbled healthcare system. In an example of bad leveraging, some fancy CD4 machines (for HIV diagnostics) are about to get delivered up country to hospitals that lack air-conditioned, dust free rooms to house them. Hmmm. Not a great idea. They are finicky machines anyway and will not last long in a room like that. With better planning, the powers-that-be might have recognized that the same money could have been prioritized to renovate the room and by multiples of more basic lab machines that would benefit that many more patients. And, along the same lines, put some money aside to ensure than maintenance and reagents for the machines will be provided. Everyone believes in this logic (the donors too). But they all must be reminded of it constantly.
Among many other activities, my colleagues and I play that delicate role of the Reminder. We are the "trusted advisors" of people who run significant programs (or, in the case of some friends, Ministries) in this government. It's the most challenging and rewarding job that I could ever ask for. After way too many years, I am amazed to realize that I have reached the position that I have been training for.
We have to be very careful to speak quietly, though. It might feel like we are running our programs, but there is a manager or minister whose job is on the line and any decision is ultimately theirs to make. At many meetings, I have to make a conscious decision as to whether it is more appropriate to speak as NACP or as Clinton Foundation.
The retreat that you will see in the video occurred a couple of weeks ago. NACP is saddled with what Callista calls “classic” organization problems. Suffice it to say that I was fairly dubious that any retreat could solve our numerous issues. Then, we recruited our friend Pewee, who normally works for the Liberian office of the Carter Center, to facilitate the meeting. (He is mentioned, and maybe even pictured in some of Callista’s earlier posts.)
Pewee was amazing. He brought energy and enthusiasm into a room full of skepticism. He broke the ice with songs and non-traditional ways of clapping/showing appreciation for your colleagues that Americans would do well to learn from (see second video). And in the end, he brokered peace deals among the warring parties. They are singing a closing song, the words of which are "Tomorrow, tomorrow, what will they say?" punctuated by saying someone's name after the refrain. At the end they are singing: "NACP, what will you say?" Pewee is in the white shirt in the middle of the group. The second video is of everyone giving themselves Pewee's much more active version of a round of applause...
No, the work is not done. The strategy for expanding quality access to HIV prevention, care and treatment is a work in progress, but we—the staff of the NACP-- are, at least for the moment, tenuously moving forward in the same direction.
(Re: the video-- a disclaimer: I did it with my point and shoot camera and there's a bit too much panning around. At the end I am trying to show the setting of the retreat. It doesn't come out, but we are just above the beach overlooking the Atlantic. )
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
the apartment
Apologies for the recent delays. For the next two months, I'll be in London/LA/SF/NY, but will continue to blog about our travels. For now, I owe you all some pictures of our apartment.
Here's our kitchen. Later, we'll be posting tales about the challenges of cooking here.
On a clear, sunny day, the view from our balcony is beautiful.
So, as you see, it's pretty sweet...or embarrassingly ostentatious. In a country where millions of families are sleeping on mud floors, or can't afford to let their children go to school because they have to work, or have nothing to eat but rice - on a good day - well, let's just say I'm feeling conflicted.
Here's our kitchen. Later, we'll be posting tales about the challenges of cooking here.
On a clear, sunny day, the view from our balcony is beautiful.
So, as you see, it's pretty sweet...or embarrassingly ostentatious. In a country where millions of families are sleeping on mud floors, or can't afford to let their children go to school because they have to work, or have nothing to eat but rice - on a good day - well, let's just say I'm feeling conflicted.
Thursday, September 13, 2007
oops
Correction to our earlier post about Zwedru: It's the hometown of the late President Samuel Doe, not Charles Taylor. Thanks to a careful reader for the correction. Point still stands though- it has paved roads, unlike the surrounding towns.
Saturday, September 8, 2007
hm
I actually said these words today:
"That looks pretty good, now that you've cut the maggots off."
What can I say? The papaya is excellent here, and sometimes you get one home and find that it has a big gaping hole surrounded by little...friends.
"That looks pretty good, now that you've cut the maggots off."
What can I say? The papaya is excellent here, and sometimes you get one home and find that it has a big gaping hole surrounded by little...friends.
harper
Harper is a pretty little town. In part, its remote location allowed it to escape from the war relatively unscathed. For five nights, we stayed in what could be the choicest real estate in the entire country. Steps away from a dramatic lighthouse, overlooking the Atlantic Ocean, we had a clear view of the stunning sunset -
from a trailer.
Charming, no? Actually, it wasn't that bad. We had running water (some of the time), working toilets (most of the time) and air conditioning/lights/power (24 hours!)
We did get to walk around town a bit and enjoy being outside crowded Monrovia.
from a trailer.
Charming, no? Actually, it wasn't that bad. We had running water (some of the time), working toilets (most of the time) and air conditioning/lights/power (24 hours!)
We did get to walk around town a bit and enjoy being outside crowded Monrovia.
Sunday, September 2, 2007
"bridges"
Day 2
By 8 AM, we're on the road again. None of us - men, women, cars - had time to wash up. Our first adventure of the morning involved waiting for yet another truck to be dug out.
Some of the passengers from the truck were walking past us, and we spoke with a woman who had bought some large snails for dinner. Don't know if the French are interested in larger escargots, but I'm sure China is...
But of course, the day couldn't have ended without some drama. We were driving along when suddenly the lead car zoomed across a small "bridge." As it did, parts of the bridge fell off. Or, fell...to the side. We pulled over to investigate.
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We spent 20 minutes reconstructing the bridge ourselves, and then we all got out of the car, to watch from behind as he crossed. Our driver slowly positioned his wheels so that they'd be applying pressure on the actual logs themselves. He started moving across the bridge, and the two front wheels were across, when one of the logs on his left side flew out from under the car- leaving the left rear tire resting on nothing!! The back end of the truck started to drop, Bill stepped on the gas, and with a huge blast of black exhaust, he managed to get the last two wheels onto the ground.
Yikes.
By 8 AM, we're on the road again. None of us - men, women, cars - had time to wash up. Our first adventure of the morning involved waiting for yet another truck to be dug out.
Some of the passengers from the truck were walking past us, and we spoke with a woman who had bought some large snails for dinner. Don't know if the French are interested in larger escargots, but I'm sure China is...
But of course, the day couldn't have ended without some drama. We were driving along when suddenly the lead car zoomed across a small "bridge." As it did, parts of the bridge fell off. Or, fell...to the side. We pulled over to investigate.
.JPG)
We spent 20 minutes reconstructing the bridge ourselves, and then we all got out of the car, to watch from behind as he crossed. Our driver slowly positioned his wheels so that they'd be applying pressure on the actual logs themselves. He started moving across the bridge, and the two front wheels were across, when one of the logs on his left side flew out from under the car- leaving the left rear tire resting on nothing!! The back end of the truck started to drop, Bill stepped on the gas, and with a huge blast of black exhaust, he managed to get the last two wheels onto the ground.
Yikes.
Saturday, September 1, 2007
"roads"
So. I was way off the mark with that whole "fourteen hours" thing. You know me - I was being ridiculous. In fact, it took us TWENTY-FIVE HOURS. And since I adore SUVs, traffic, and potholes, having so much time to enjoy them was extra special for me.
Day 1
Since we didn't make the flight, our group decided to rent a second vehicle. By noon, we were finally leaving "Redlight", a bustling, muddy neighborhood so named for being one of the few in Monrovia with a traffic light.
The first nine hours passed mostly without event. But then at about 8 pm, we stopped just before a hill, where at least three trucks were trapped in the mud. On a side road that had just been cut through the brush, a jeep was being dug out by at least a dozen boys and men using their hands and a couple shovels. One actually sported a reflective vest, as though he worked at the Ministry of Public Works, or maybe was about to go for a jog. For the next three hours, we waited while the jeep moved a few feet, and then had to be dug out. A few feet, and then more digging. Wheels spinning, men digging.
While we waited Bill, our driver, pulled a machete out of the storage compartment of our Nissan Patrol, "because we're in unfamiliar territory."
?!?!?!
Three hours later, it was our turn. With much revving, some leaning forward, and a bit of praying, we made it!
Here are the boys and men digging us out:
As we pulled out of the bush, we passed a couple huts and then suddenly pulled up to a makeshift gate in the road. A few of the boys stood guard. Bill rolled down the window and started shouting, "We all the same team. Boss man behind us! Two cars, all together!" Pee We [sic] our Liberian finance guy, had been supervising the digging and had then been obligated to negotiate with the workers.
We had already been planning to pay them something for their efforts, but hadn't realized that it would be quite so...formal.
The rest of the night was long, but uneventful. Astonishingly, as soon as we reached Zwedru, we found paved, concrete roads. Apparently, ex-President Charles Taylor (now on trial in The Hague for his role in Sierra Leone's civil war) had made sure his hometown had it real good. At 3 AM, we were finally in bed, at a run down guest house.
.JPG)
Day 1
Since we didn't make the flight, our group decided to rent a second vehicle. By noon, we were finally leaving "Redlight", a bustling, muddy neighborhood so named for being one of the few in Monrovia with a traffic light.
The first nine hours passed mostly without event. But then at about 8 pm, we stopped just before a hill, where at least three trucks were trapped in the mud. On a side road that had just been cut through the brush, a jeep was being dug out by at least a dozen boys and men using their hands and a couple shovels. One actually sported a reflective vest, as though he worked at the Ministry of Public Works, or maybe was about to go for a jog. For the next three hours, we waited while the jeep moved a few feet, and then had to be dug out. A few feet, and then more digging. Wheels spinning, men digging.
While we waited Bill, our driver, pulled a machete out of the storage compartment of our Nissan Patrol, "because we're in unfamiliar territory."
?!?!?!
Three hours later, it was our turn. With much revving, some leaning forward, and a bit of praying, we made it!
Here are the boys and men digging us out:
As we pulled out of the bush, we passed a couple huts and then suddenly pulled up to a makeshift gate in the road. A few of the boys stood guard. Bill rolled down the window and started shouting, "We all the same team. Boss man behind us! Two cars, all together!" Pee We [sic] our Liberian finance guy, had been supervising the digging and had then been obligated to negotiate with the workers.
We had already been planning to pay them something for their efforts, but hadn't realized that it would be quite so...formal.
The rest of the night was long, but uneventful. Astonishingly, as soon as we reached Zwedru, we found paved, concrete roads. Apparently, ex-President Charles Taylor (now on trial in The Hague for his role in Sierra Leone's civil war) had made sure his hometown had it real good. At 3 AM, we were finally in bed, at a run down guest house.
.JPG)
Friday, August 24, 2007
signs
I am fascinated by signs in Monrovia. Maybe it's that so many of them are hand painted. At any rate:
so...close...
We got up early today so that we could get to Spriggs Payne Airfield by 730 AM. (It's the airport used for domestic flights). We were waitlisted on UN flight 173 to Harper, a small, sleepy city in southeast Liberia.
Three or four times a week, the UN flies to Harper and Freetown (Sierra Leone). NGO personnel (us) can fly for free - if there's space. At 8:30 AM, one of the guards assured me that we'd get on. Sometimes it's a plane, sometimes it's a big helicopter. Today it was a chopper that seats about 20, and there were only about 15 people on the "manifest" (list), including only 5 UN folks.
Around us were other would-be-passengers. Small groups of UN soldiers from Ethiopia, Pakistan, Ghana, and Mongolia (!!). NGO workers with heavy black laptop bags over their shoulders. Liberians, some seemingly waiting for flights, some just hanging out.
At 9 AM, we stood in line, showed our passports, and we were in! This was great news - not just because riding a UN chopper for free would be great, but because this meant that we wouldn't have to endure the FOURTEEN HOUR DRIVE to Harper over 150 miles of muddy "roads," in an SUV with seven other people, luggage, and flip charts.
We were herded into the "Passenger Lounge", a small room full of UN soldiers watching a South African soccer game. I started reading. I texted friends. A British woman's voice announced that our flights were postponed indefinitely because of the weather. I dozed off. Three hours later:
"Attention, please. All passengers holding red or yellow boarding cards, flying to Harper or Greenville, your flights have been canceled. Please see the check-in desk to rebook your flights."
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!
Three or four times a week, the UN flies to Harper and Freetown (Sierra Leone). NGO personnel (us) can fly for free - if there's space. At 8:30 AM, one of the guards assured me that we'd get on. Sometimes it's a plane, sometimes it's a big helicopter. Today it was a chopper that seats about 20, and there were only about 15 people on the "manifest" (list), including only 5 UN folks.
Around us were other would-be-passengers. Small groups of UN soldiers from Ethiopia, Pakistan, Ghana, and Mongolia (!!). NGO workers with heavy black laptop bags over their shoulders. Liberians, some seemingly waiting for flights, some just hanging out.
At 9 AM, we stood in line, showed our passports, and we were in! This was great news - not just because riding a UN chopper for free would be great, but because this meant that we wouldn't have to endure the FOURTEEN HOUR DRIVE to Harper over 150 miles of muddy "roads," in an SUV with seven other people, luggage, and flip charts.
We were herded into the "Passenger Lounge", a small room full of UN soldiers watching a South African soccer game. I started reading. I texted friends. A British woman's voice announced that our flights were postponed indefinitely because of the weather. I dozed off. Three hours later:
"Attention, please. All passengers holding red or yellow boarding cards, flying to Harper or Greenville, your flights have been canceled. Please see the check-in desk to rebook your flights."
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
scenes from around town
Here a few pictures we took from the car today...
It may not be apparent from this picture, but the point I was trying to make was that all of the government agencies in Liberia are really poor. So poor that the customs officials and guards at the airport weren't wearing uniforms.
Here are some shots of the roads in our neighborhood.
It may not be apparent from this picture, but the point I was trying to make was that all of the government agencies in Liberia are really poor. So poor that the customs officials and guards at the airport weren't wearing uniforms.
Here are some shots of the roads in our neighborhood.
Saturday, August 18, 2007
where to start
Hello from Monrovia, Liberia!
Peter and I landed here late Monday night at Roberts International Airport, after a three hour delay at London Gatwick. Four days in, we're still getting settled - or at least, I am. (Peter was here for three weeks in April ). So, the basics:
We live on the fifth floor of a palatial ex-pat apartment building at "16th and the beach," in the residential neighborhood of Sinkor. It seems to be almost 2000 square feet, with 3 enormous bedrooms, 2.5 baths, a huge kitchen and pantry, washer/dryer. and satellite internet access. All in all, it's pretty fantastic and, for the moment anyway, we have it to ourselves.
However, it's a little embarrassing to be living in such conditions when most of our Liberian neighbors live in burned out buildings (casualties of the war?), tin lean-tos, or straw huts with mud floors.
I'd meant to start this blog the day after our arrival, but frankly, I felt about it the way I feel about helping Liberia: I didn't know where to start. There's so much to say- from my death march apartment hunt in London to the sign at Customs at the Monrovia airport (it included these lines:
"Rejections:
Criminals/convicts
Immoral acts/actors")
So I'll start with what seems like a very troubling conundrum: Where do you start, when you're trying to help the people of a desperately poor, post-conflict country with an impotent justice system, disastrous roads, inconsistent power, and almost no health care? Do you pave roads so that the citizens and aid workers can get around more easily? Create a power grid so that people can work into the night? Build schools so that the child soldiers have somewhere positive to go? Give out microfinance loans so that people can make a living?
The answer, it seems, is: You start everywhere. The UN is here, as are dozens (maybe hundreds) of NGOs working on all of these things, each contributing one little, tiny drop in the bucket, hoping that it will add up.
cc
Here are some pictures from the balconies (yes, plural) at our apartment.
Peter and I landed here late Monday night at Roberts International Airport, after a three hour delay at London Gatwick. Four days in, we're still getting settled - or at least, I am. (Peter was here for three weeks in April ). So, the basics:
We live on the fifth floor of a palatial ex-pat apartment building at "16th and the beach," in the residential neighborhood of Sinkor. It seems to be almost 2000 square feet, with 3 enormous bedrooms, 2.5 baths, a huge kitchen and pantry, washer/dryer. and satellite internet access. All in all, it's pretty fantastic and, for the moment anyway, we have it to ourselves.
However, it's a little embarrassing to be living in such conditions when most of our Liberian neighbors live in burned out buildings (casualties of the war?), tin lean-tos, or straw huts with mud floors.
I'd meant to start this blog the day after our arrival, but frankly, I felt about it the way I feel about helping Liberia: I didn't know where to start. There's so much to say- from my death march apartment hunt in London to the sign at Customs at the Monrovia airport (it included these lines:
"Rejections:
Criminals/convicts
Immoral acts/actors")
So I'll start with what seems like a very troubling conundrum: Where do you start, when you're trying to help the people of a desperately poor, post-conflict country with an impotent justice system, disastrous roads, inconsistent power, and almost no health care? Do you pave roads so that the citizens and aid workers can get around more easily? Create a power grid so that people can work into the night? Build schools so that the child soldiers have somewhere positive to go? Give out microfinance loans so that people can make a living?
The answer, it seems, is: You start everywhere. The UN is here, as are dozens (maybe hundreds) of NGOs working on all of these things, each contributing one little, tiny drop in the bucket, hoping that it will add up.
cc
Here are some pictures from the balconies (yes, plural) at our apartment.
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