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.
**********************************************
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. I did a lot of wandering aimlessly. I explored the few blocks around my hotel to the extent that shopkeepers and servers at my frequented stops began to recognize me and greet me warmly with a smile and a "asalam alekum," knowing full well that I couldn't say much more than that.
My felt my energy returning after being tested to the max in Liberia. I began to feel inspired by my surroundings to create with so much detail and intricacy around every corner. I wanted to (and did) go exploring with my camera on me. I bought a sketchbook and colored pens on day 2 because I feeling the strong urge to draw, and I sat at coffee shops and porches to recreate my surroundings on paper. I ate tajines, pizza, gelato, and fresh fruits. I drank smoothies, delicious coffee, mint tea, and sangria. I felt myself coming back together.
To say it's been a challenging 2 months in my village in Liberia would be an understatement. I've felt as thought I'm unraveling; lost and losing my motivation.
There are no vegetables in my village. There's no electricity (except for a single generator that is turned on for 3 hours most evenings). Most people speak Bassa, a local tribal language, and a little bit of Liberian English. There are rats living in my ceiling that sometimes keep me awake at night. It's so unbelievably hot and humid that I don't even know what it's like to not be sticky and sweaty outside of the 5 minutes after I take a cold bucket bath every evening. I basically have no privacy as my neighbors have practically adopted me into their family unit, treating me like their own daughter (this has it's positives and negatives).
The job that I came here to do is difficult in it's own ways. Most health volunteers with Peace Corps (globally) have to identify their own work in the community, but our situation in Liberia is a bit different. Since we are piloting the health program, the expectations and niches for work have not already been discovered. We are literally going in as the guinea pigs, having to be extra resilient and trying to forge our own path within the health system.
Because we are "response" volunteers, we are not trained in the same way as normal PCVs. We did not have the same level of community integration or cultural training which really assists with running community-based work. Being able to communicate in the local language and understand the community hierarchy and social structure are key elements for starting and running sustainable programs.
I've spent many days sitting at my health facility with no real purpose or work (besides observing) and many more lacking the energy to even get this far and instead just sitting on my porch reading (and sweating) all day. I've been fortunate enough to be able to go into the field a few times with my counterparts. I LOVED these trips. Hiking into the bush to restock medicines to rural health workers and look over the forms they fill out is such satisfying and important work. I feel a great sense of accomplishment when I get to help my counterpart with it.
I think the most challenging thing has been that I came to Liberia to WORK. I wanted to dedicate myself to a project, to push myself, to learn, to grow, and to gain new experiences. But this is just not the reality of the situation. As much as I want to work, I forgot that you have to take the first step. You have to do the background research and on-the-ground work to start a project the RIGHT way. Yet I'm not sure if it's my impatience or fear of offending someone, a lack of motivation with work partners, or the unclear nature of the scope of the work I signed up to do here that has gotten me more frustrated than I have ever been.
**************************************
Although I definitely didn't plan to trip on my run, tear open my knee, and have to be med evac'ed to Morocco, I do think the whole situation came at a good time. Having a 10 day break from the daily challenges of life in Liberia was good for my heart and my soul. I was able to distance myself from the struggles I've been facing and look at them objectively. To remove all of the little nuisances and get down to the meat of the issue. To assess the root causes, analyze what I should do, and brainstorm solutions or idea for how to flip the situation.
I go back to my village tomorrow. I feel a mixed bag of emotions ranging between fear that all of my frustrations will bubble back up as soon as I arrive and excitement about returning to my home here in Liberia and reuniting with my community.
But mostly, I worry about how many rats will have taken up residency in my house while I've been away and whether my clothes will be moldy.
We shall see.