Under the Milky Way

I am back in my current “home” of Liberia as opposed to still on vacation. After a very full and busy ten days, I was happy to return to a place where time seems to move more slowly. I needed a break from the going, going, going. I spent Christmas in a friend's village for multiple reasons including the fact that it was faster and easier to get to from the airport (compared to my site). I also needed a bit of a break from my boring, extremely loud and intrusive community life. On Christmas morning, a neighbor brought over 2 bottles of palm wine --which I've never tasted before! So rather than opening presents and making a fancy breakfast as is the normal tradition for my family on Christmas morning, we drank the palm wine and listened to music. It was chill and the palm wine was alright. It was milky colored, smelled a bit like sour milk, and was frothy... but it does the trick of getting tipsy on a cheap mans dime.  We had a small group of PCVs here on Chri

It has been quite some time since I last updated. Life recently has had it's ups and downs, but I am currently coming off of a high, wrapping up a holiday vacation spent in Ghana and Sao Tome. I fly back to Liberia in a few hours. Before leaving the country, I must say I was a bit of a hot mess. Upon arriving back in the village from the whole med evac situation, I was unexpectedly surprised to feel happy to be home. It was nice to be in my own space again and to see my neighbors and community. I felt rejuvenated and ready to try to get things started with work again. For about a month, I was in and out of site at different meetings with the County Health Team, Last Mile Health, and Peace Corps. Just before Thanksgiving, I got to see one of my fellow volunteer's sites way out in the bush (about a 2 hour motorbike trip from my village). The road was terrible, and I got extremely carsick when we were close to reaching it. So that part wasn't fun, but I enjoyed

 Perched atop a mountain of dirt and next to a stuck truck with 'God's time is the best" written across it's back, the komatsu excavator whirled back and forth. It's mighty engine was the only machine running outside of the occasional motorbike, as all of the cars waiting on it's progress had long since shut off their motors and settled in. When we had approached this spot in the road, we assessed the situation. Then"good time" truck blocked the road to the left, another sat in the middle of the mess, and a big truck was teetering on one side, barely upright on the right side of the pit. A dumptruck hauled out the middle truck, but then the komatsu went straight in, after being filled with gasoline, and went to work. Groups of men sat around the heart of the action, closely observing the incredible work of such a powerful machine. Young kids helped motorbikes push their way through the giant muddy mess, jumping out of the way of the big y

Walking down the busy sidewalk toward the king's palace, I paused to appreciate the cool breeze on my face and to breathe in the city air. I marveled at the palm tree lined street leading up to a beautiful minaret directly in front of me. Freedom at last. I felt so light and full of energy. ********************************************** After two of the longest days of my life-spent bored out of my mind in a hospital room- I couldn't get out and moving quick enough. I was discharged by the surgeon, and Peace Corps dropped me off at my hotel. I took a much needed shower, gathered my 'wandering' things, and was out the door. I had no purpose, direction, or place to be, instead I just allowed my body to venture down streets that appealed to me- taking turns when my subconscious told me I should and soaking in the bustling city around me.  This was just about the epitome of the seven days I spent in Rabat.

Reality began to set in as I shoveled food into my mouth and the peace corps lounge got dark and empty and lonely. The shuttle to the airport was wildly unexciting, and I think I fell asleep at some point (so many nights of bad sleep combined left me desperate for some zz's). I awoke as we were pulling into the dark airport -recognizing it by its shadowy darkness and immediately was reminded of the night when we arrived in Liberia just a little over 2 months ago- nervous, luggage-less, and not sure what to expect. With no one to help me from this point on, I groggily pulled my two backpacks on me. I tried to use the crutches I'd been given, but I couldn't balance with all of my bags. So I just hobbled my way to the entrance carrying them in my spare hand.  The airport in Liberia is itty bitty, feeling like an old warehouse divided into sections. Despite its size, I struggled to find my way from place to place with the lack of signage as this Atlanta gal is use

I hadn’t run in three days after a weekend bout of stomach issues. I had decided to go for a short jog down my favorite path just to get my blood moving. When I started running, I felt my sluggish legs working underneath me. Instead of trying to push through it, I just allowed myself to slowly jog down the path, trying to re-center my mind, forget my daily frustrations, and enjoy the lush, jungle setting of my own “gym.” Somewhere in the slogging, I tripped over something and smacked into the ground, sliding forward on the loose gravel and grass. My hand, which was inches from my face when I fell, caught a lot of my weight, and I feared that it would be gushing blood when I flipped it over to look at my palm. Quickly I did just that and was surprised to find only a few faint scratches on it. I rolled my body over, stood up, and looked at my knees. “FU*!,” was my only reaction. I repeated this over and over again as I assessed the damage. My right knee was already dripping

I guess it's time to get back to this whole blogging thing, as it'll likely be the most efficient way to share experiences during this second Peace Corps stint! So my group and I (LR-23 as we’ve named) have been in Liberia for over three and a half weeks. And it has been an eventful time FOR. SURE.  Peace Corps Liberia Training Hub To begin with, we were luggage-less for our first entire week in Liberia. Our bags got stuck in Brussels during our four-hour layover between DC and Monrovia. The handling staff decided to go on strike the same morning we arrived meaning that when we took off for Monrovia, we already knew that we would only have our carry on bags when we arrived. Thankfully many of us at least had more than one outfit, but arriving in a new country after ~36 hours of traveling without clean clothes to change into (and three hours late) was not what we’d hoped for. The Peace Corps staff greeted us at the airport with Liberian flags (probably to keep