Under the Milky Way

Most people know that I'm big on birthdays. I like being somewhere new and exciting—exploring unknown places, tastes, and streets or else relaxing somewhere special with good company. This year, I had been away from my community for a bit and was feeling extra poor, so I decided to keep it simple with a small village celebration.  Compared to Malawi where people didn’t really acknowledge birthdays, Liberians have certain traditions depending on where you live. If you live “in town,” you might go to the ice cream shop or out to a nice dinner after taking a bajillion ‘bluffing’ pictures in a new birthday outfit. In the “interior” (the word Liberians use to describe the bush), the celebrations are more tame and limited. If you decide to have a ‘party,’ the whole community expects you make popcorn and juice for everyone . Adult birthday parties may substitute cane juice or palm wine for sugary juice powder. Then music is played and people dance (I assume…I’ve...

I am lucky: I have never before seen someone's life leave their body. That changed today. When I arrived at the clinic around mid morning, something seemed off. I didn't see any of the staff except our registrar who was busily registering our day's patients. I walked down the hallway of doors, peeking inside each one. When I reached the in-patient room, I saw three of our staff inside. They were crowding around a 10-month old girl child who was laying naked on the bed, her chest heaving up and down with labored breath. I asked what was happening. “She's dehydrated,” they told me. I stood in front of the bed, my coffee thermos in hand and still sweating from the walk down to the clinic from my house, trying to make sense of my surroundings. An array of needles in their packages were splayed across the table, and I overhead our CM (certified midwife) saying the baby was so fat that they couldn't find a vein. This was true; she was covere...

“Aaaa Amuchee, you gettin' fat oooo” my counterpart called to me as I walked up to her porch. “Tank you.....” I responded while smiling, pausing to pose, and laughing to myself. I get comments like this alllllll the time in Liberia. And I got comments like this all the time in Malawi too. When you live in a developing country where having enough food is a luxury, being 'fat' is a good thing. I remember learning about this same phenomenon in 9 th grade history class: that people judged your socioeconomic status based on your stature. Pleasantly plump people with extra meat on their bones were assumed to be rich and thin, feeble looking people were thought to be poor or struggling. At the time when I learned this, I thought this to be such a strange way of thinking. Then I lived in Malawi for two years, where at least 11% of the population in my district was living with HIV/AIDS. Over time, I began to view people through this same lens- naturally assuming that...

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...

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...