Liberia: The Beginning

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 track of us), and we all tiredly waved them around as we went through customs and clambered aboard a Peace Corps bus with our measly carry on bags.

We drove about 1.5 hours to the Peace Corps training center located in a town called Kakata (which is pronounced in the same was as the bird –cockatoo but with an ‘a’ at the end instead of ‘oo’) in the pitch black, half asleep and jet lagged as hell. Although we were extremely late, the staff kept a nice liberian meal hot for us for when we arrived, and we were each given a dose of malaria prophylaxis before we knocked out in the dorms. 

We jumped right into Peace Corps training the next morning at 8 AM, which was tough! A lot of us had trouble falling asleep that night prior from jet lag and being overtired. We spent our first few days of training in this PC compound/training hub, which is located in a village but right off the main road and outside of a large market.

Practicing language 

The first two days we filled out bank paperwork, got SIM cards for our phones, learned how to RIDE motorbikes and about exchanging US dollars for Liberian dollars, met with Peace Corps medical staff, and had a few training sessions before heading to Monrovia, the capital, for swearing-in and additional meet-and-greets of PC staff. All of this with no luggage and rotating through spare clothes in a humid, rainy environment (you can imagine how we smelled ;)) We actually had to borrow clothes from current PCVs to wear to swear in - considering it was at the US Embassy and we didn't want to show up looking completely ratty.

I personally was going crazy from not having my running shoes and being under so much stress with adjusting and our strict schedule. When our luggage finally arrived on Day 8 in country, we were all like kids on Christmas- hugging our cherished bottles of shampoo, bags of REAL coffee, and other comfort items that we'd craved during the adjustment. I immediately threw on running clothes and went out and pounded a good three miles, feeling instantly better upon arriving back to the hub. 

Finally had time to do some shopping

From then on, we spent another half a week or so at the training hub attending sessions on various topics ranging from safety and security and common disease prevention to coping mechanisms and Liberian English. After training, we'd do things like watch Game of Thrones, do workout videos or yoga, wash our clothes on the plastic washboards provided, or call family/friends back home using the wifi at the hub. And around day 8/9, everyone but the health program volunteers dispersed to their sites. Then we were a small group of six! 

The health sector of Peace Corps Liberia is BRAND spankin new, so there's a lot of speculation and a lack of clarity on what exactly our work responsibilities will be. But that is our role as response volunteers—to figure these things out. I am really excited to be a part of this pilot and to experiment with the system and find the intersection where Peace Corps can assist the Liberian Ministry of Health as well as the health NGOs currently serving here.

Fun fruits and stuff

Currently, we know that our job is to help local counterparts with the implementation and supervision of a national health policy that the Liberian MoH just rolled out last year. The focus of this program is to help expand basic health care services to hard-to-reach places… aka people who live more than 5 kilometers away from the nearest health facility. The program involves finding and training community-elected members in rural villages to be able to provide very basic health services (for malaria, diarrheal diseases, and for simple cough –aka NOT tuberculosis). These Community Health Assistants (CHAs) are like the health point-person for a community—someone who can check in on pregnant mothers and malnourished children and sick elders on a more regular basis because they themselves also live in that community. This program was previously run by two NGOs in different counties in Liberia and has been successful thus far. So now the goal is to standardize and expand the program and eventually hand it over to the MoH to run on its own. (Idealistic sustainability plan, eh?)

So there’s a basic overview of what we’ve been learning about these past two weeks in Monrovia. In addition to that, we’ve also been navigating our way around the city including locating places where we can find good cheap meals, margaritas, REAL ice cream, dance floors with decent music, and household essentials. It’s been an interesting adventure trying to live on a Peace Corps budget in a city as expensive as Monrovia. For example, a salad is about $12, a corona is $5, a cocktail is $10-12, a small sushi roll is $8-14… but of course we’ve learned that we can also get $5 shwarma, veggie, and falafel wraps, $3 shots of tequila on the rocks, $6 burgers, and a humongous plate of rice with soup and boiled egg for a whopping $1.

Balance, it’s all about balance, right?

Street food - rice with soup and hot dog

Myself and the two other gals serving in Rivercess County are off to our sites tomorrow morning after a delayed leave date. I think we are all having mixed feelings about taking off to the bush. We have become a bit accustomed to having our own room at our hotel, air conditioning, and hot showers. While we have tried to mentally (and physically—with LOTS of shopping) prepare ourselves for this next very challenging transition, I’m sure we’ll be in for a bit of a shock.

I remember when I first applied for this job; I was under the impression that I’d be living at a comfort level at least a bit higher than I was at in Malawi. I thought I’d probably have (inconsistent) electricity, a refrigerator, access to a few more specialty foods, and would work in some sort of office/more formal setting. I couldn’t imagine living conditions that could be much more difficult than not having electricity or running water and using a pit latrine and having to walk 5km to the road to go anywhere or buy anything/charge electronics (aka my old village). Thankfully, during my time in Malawi, I had an absolutely gorgeous site, I loved my community so whole-heartedly, and I developed a very strong social support system after a few months of floundering.

Doing some shoe shopping!

But now, after countless stories from PCVs who have come in and out of Monrovia since we arrived, after seeing crazy photos on instagram, and after multiple security precautions and warnings from Peace Corps about the state of the roads and traveling, I’m starting to feel more nervous. About what, I can’t quite put my finger on. It’s not that I’m afraid that I won’t be able to survive or that I will die in a car accident or that I won’t be able to find my way around. I guess it’s just the anxiety associated with NOT KNOWING.

Since accepting this position back in June, I feel like I’ve been in limbo. Like I haven’t been able to settle in anywhere or even know what to expect of the next year of my life. I’ve slowly been gaining insight into what this upcoming village life might be like—a tiny, traditional village along the main (SUPER muddy) road…a place where I can buy food ~a 20 minute motorbike ride away… a bar literally right next door to my house… possibly a charging station nearby (run by generator I assume)… and “night devils” that come out occasionally (masked people who are a part of some sort of secret society). I know it will be an exhilarating experience, that I will learn SO much about Bassa culture and people, and that I will probably love returning to a simple, yet meaningful, lifestyle again. Trust me, I’m SO pumped to see my house and get it all set up and meet everyone and get started with working.

BUT there’s also a little nagging in me that’s reigning in my excitement and constantly reminding me of all the challenges that will probably exist. I’m reminded of Malawi and of the fight to keep all the critters and bugs out of my living space, the challenge of finding healthy food and of constantly having to cook (no refrigerator to keep the leftovers), the trips to go get water and carry it back on my head, the inescapable heat and humidity that made me lethargic and unmotivated to do anything, the struggle to keep my computer/phone/ipod/anything electronic charged, and the intense loneliness and isolation that comes along with having a completely different background and perspective than everyone around you.

Call me pessimistic or negative, but I consider myself a proud realist. I see two perspectives of the glass- as half full and also as half empty. I try to never only show the good side of things on social media and cover up all the rest because that’s NOT real life. We all have our ups and downs and that is what makes life beautiful and interesting. I know that this next stage will be something that pushes me in extremely different ways than my last service. I’m also so excited to see how much I’ll grow as a person. And at this point, I’ve literally have nothing in my control besides my perspective and my attitude. So my strategy is just to anticipate the worst (but not worry about it!) and, hopefully, I’ll be happily surprised by what I discover.

I’ll end this update (that I’ve been trying to wrap up and post for like two weeks but instead keep adding to) with this—I woke up the other night from some sort of malarone-induced strange dream. I can’t remember anything regarding what happened in the dream, but I woke up with a passing thought floating through my head. And it felt like a perfect one sentence to describe my subconscious feeling about this whole experience. So before it flew away into the morning, I jotted it down.

‘Never let the fear of moving or starting over keep you from wandering on in search of unknown adventures.’

Maybe it’s already been said. Maybe it’s a quote by yours truly. Either way, it’s something I plan to remind myself anytime I’m nervous about a new undertaking.