Under the Milky Way

Here in Liberia, more than I've ever experienced, people talk about America. The linked history these two nations share creates an intriguing dynamic. Many people go to America to study, to buy a house, to find a job, to visit family, or simply to see the place. And this is normal. Now, across the globe everyone eats right? Food brings us all together across cultural, socioeconomic, and geographical barriers. I often get the question from people curious about America and wanting to travel there, 'what do Americans eat?' In Liberia, people eat rice every single day. It is their staple food, and they cannot go without it. (They also ask me if there is rice in America.) Sometimes I answer by going into descriptive detail when explaining that Americans don't necessarily have a “staple” or traditional food and that our food culture tends to reflect our varied melting pot society and geographically diverse environments. The ones who have visited the State

The scurrying and thumping continued just above me, and the darkness surrounded my eyes. I reached over and peeked at my phone- checking the time. It was 4 AM: not time to wake up yet. I rolled back over and closed my eyes, trying to will the time to pass until morning when I knew the rats in the ceiling would either leave or be quiet. I heard a distant rooster cry through the dim dawn pushing its way through my window. The sound seemed to echo off every edge of the community as other roosters called back to the one, setting off a chorus of sounds. 'Not a great nights sleep for my first night back,' I thought to myself as eventually woke up almost three hours later. I tried to rouse myself from the deep indent of my body in my 6 inch foam mattress on the floor. The carpenter in town, whom I gave money to 6 weeks ago for materials, still hasn't finished my bed frame which will get me off the floor and out of the way of curious rats who might make rounds around my house