Pretty soon it was time to head to the southeast again so that we could run an additional training and get things in order for the new school year to start on September 5. Unfortunately, our school year start coincided with the start of the year at Tubman University, so all of the plane seats were sold out. The team attempted to get me on standby on the plane, and it seemed like it might be a possibility. At the last second before we were set to leave, they said they might have a seat open. We had to send cars down to the southeast anyway, carrying a ton of school supplies - from books to chalk - that would be too difficult to procure in Harper. I was set to leave with three guys (Josh, Darious and Daniel) and it was suggested that as a woman I might be more comfortable on the plane than taking the long drive south again.
Um, nope.
You want a really fast way for me to rebel against something? Tell me I'm too weak and dainty to do it, haha. I gave the plane a hard pass and hopped in the truck with the guys. Oh how different would my next few days have been...
We headed out around 7:30am, with a car full of supplies and staff. Another car left the day before us and took the same route we had taken the first trip (the inland route). They hit a few rough patches and our driver talked to others who had gone both routes in the last few days and determined that we should try the coastal route this time.
Google Maps said the inland route would take 13 hours and we spent a full 24 hours driving...what would this alleged 15 hours turn into? We would soon find out.
We left Monrovia around 7:30am and headed south. Day one was pretty smooth. There was one really rough patch, that we spent about an hour trying to get through. The main road was totally washed out, so we had to take a detour. Unfortunately, the detour required climbing a hill that was about six feet tall...and covered in mud.
I learned on our overland journeys that 4-wheel driving is a mix of science and art. The ability to accurately gauge a patch of mud and know exactly when to accelerate, turn, etc is not one that everyone has...and our second driver was definitely one that did not have the confidence or panache that we would need to navigate what was ahead.
We struggled for a while to get up the hill, and that was only the first step. About 100 yards down the detour there was another deep mud pit, that we ended up needing about 5 people to push us through. It was a mess.
Off we go!
Driving through a market area on the last of the paved roads.
Where the road started to get impassable.
Getting ready to detour so we didn't end up like the cars ahead.
The struggle was real.
Josh, Daniel, Darious and I celebrating our triumph over the mud....perhaps a bit prematurely.
This section of the road was still a bit more populated, though no where near as much as Monrovia. We passed through several small towns, but they rarely had more than a few houses in them. A lot of the houses were simple, made of mud and sticks. Buchanan was the only relatively large city that we went through (with a population of about 34,000 people). After about 9 hours on the road, we pulled into Greenville.
This city, about 150 miles south of Monrovia, is the capitol of Sinoe County and has a population of about 17,000 people. Much like Harper was founded my members of the Maryland Colonization Society, the founders of Greenville came from the Mississippi Colonization Society. It was part of Mississippi-in-Africa. In the 1830s, four plantation owners from Mississippi co-founded the Mississippi Colonization Society. At the time, there were more than three times as many slaves in Mississippi as white residents and landowners. The founders were concerned about what would happen to the established hierarchies of the south when the slaves were freed, and decided that repatriating foreign and American-born slaves to Africa was a long-term solution.
In 1836, Isaac Ross, one of the founders of the Mississippi Colonization Society, died. In his will, he freed the slaves he owned, with the caveat that they then relocate to Mississippi-in-Africa, in present day Liberia. Funds from the sale of his plantation were used to relocate more than 400 Mississippi slaves in the 1840s. Mississippi-in-Africa was incorporated into the Commonwealth of Liberia in 1842. Greenville was largely destroyed during the Liberian Civil Wars (1989-1997 and 1999-2003), and is still struggling to recover. It is a pretty sleepy little town, with lots of ruins and its very own shipwreck in the port. We arrived around 7:30pm, and checked into the hotel where we were staying, and then Josh and I took off in search of food. After walking around a bit we found one little restaurant open, Mississippi Blues, where we had a decent Liberian dinner, spent a few minutes talking to a strange expat construction worker (definite misfit), and then headed back to do some work (though weak mobile networks made tethering a bit of a struggle) and go to sleep.
Our trusty steed, parked outside our hotel across from the biggest church in town.
Looking towards downtown Greenville.
Ruins of a church by the water.
Just the bones are left.
A couple of pups enjoying the sunset in Greenville (the shipwreck is just across the harbor on the left).
Goodnight, Greenville.
Dinner at Mississippi Blues
Overnight, it poured. For hours.
The next morning, we woke up early and left the hotel by around 7:00am. We set out in the rain and found a little stand where we could get egg sandwiches, fueled up the car from little bottles of petrol from a kiosk. By 7:30am we were on the road.
All packed up and ready to go.
Grabbing some gas (from those jars and Coke bottles on the stand) before heading off.
Road breakfast of champions.
We had been driving for about two and a half hours, much of it through rain across bumpy, muddy roads, when we encountered our first car that was stuck. There was a car full of Tubman University students who were heading back to school and their car was unable to make it to the top of a relatively small hill. At this point it was pouring rain, and we were able to help them by hooking up a tether to the back of our truck and pulling them to the top of the hill. It was the last time we would have the upper hand on these roads, haha.
Passing through some small towns on the road south.
After a full night and morning of heavy rain, there was a lot of flooding.
Navigating across a small bridge.
Hooking up to the stranded students' car.
Towing the other car to the top of the hill.
Once they made it up the hill we unhooked and were on our way. I have no idea how these students were possibly able to navigate the rest of the road.
The inland road, which we took on our first trip south, was fairly flat. There were a few places where we had to go up and down hills, but for most of the trip we were driving on flat roads. The coastal route, however was much more hilly. We had been warned that there were four main obstacles on the road between Greenville and Barclayville, the next major town on our journey. Specifically, there were three fairly large hills we had to climb (all of which were covered in mud at this point) and one large pit full of deep mud. About a half an hour later, we got to the first hill.
We tried, several times, to drive up the hill with everyone in the car, but we were unsuccessful. Concerned that perhaps the weight of all of us in the car was making the ascent more difficult, the driver asked us to jump out so he could try getting up the hill on his own. The road was fairly steep, and the mud was a couple of inches deep across the entire thing. There were very deep ruts in the road that made it almost impossible to scale, and the car tires kept slipping on the mud and into the deep ditches. The driver tried multiple routes, as well as some strategies to create a little more traction. One popular strategy is to fill in the ruts - at least partially - with large rocks, sticks, and downed trees in order to give the tires SOMETHING to grip on. Unfortunately, this didn't work either. At various points we tried pushing and/or rocking the car, but still didn't have any luck.
The driver kept backing up down the hill and trying to make another run at it, and sometimes we had to wait for passing vehicles so we could try again. However, the other difference between this route and the other we had traveled was the fact that there were significantly fewer travelers on this route than the other. It wasn't uncommon to drive more than an hour without seeing anyone else in either direction.
Clearly, we were on the struggle bus. Struggle truck?
Trying to line the ruts with stuff that would give us some traction.
But it did not work.
Pausing our attempt at the hill to let a motorbike taxi pass.
Still trying....still failing.
Eventually, we got really stuck in one of the deep ruts and couldn't even back out. The driver would gun it and the tires would just spin. Sometimes the tires would spin so much and so fast that rubber was just shredding into the mud. It continued to pour.
And we are stuck.
Not going anywhere.
Attempting to use sticks under the wheels to get some traction.
Trying to formulate a plan.
Burning rubber.
We were less than halfway up the hill.
This is what happens when you are literally just spinning your tires in mud.
Pushing continued to be unsuccessful.
Nobody around...
Deeply wedged.
#unhelpfulwhiteguy
Steamy, rainy selfie in the jungle.
Eventually, another car with a blue tarp on the roof showed up behind us. Their driver, who had a lot more 4-wheel drive finesse than ours, was able to make it about 80% of the way up the hill before they got stuck. Smoking tires make for some pretty dramatic photos.
So close.
Aaaaand now we are both stuck.
After about 40 minutes of struggling, a UNICEF truck came from the opposite direction. They started by pulling the blue tarp truck out of their position, and then came down to us. They hooked up to the front of our car and tried to pull us out. It did not work. In fact, at one point they almost slipped down the hill and into our car. Another time, their tether broke as they tried to pull us out. Eventually, the driver of the blue tarp truck came down and took over for our driver to try and get our car free. He was much more aggressive with the gas, which would come back to haunt us later. Thankfully, another truck came from the opposite direction, and they daisy chained two cars together to combine power and pull us out. It finally worked.
Getting hooked up to the UNICEF car. (Notice the back up behind us beginning.)
No luck. The driver of the blue tarp truck is in the black shirt, our driver is in the gray button down.
In which the UNICEF truck trying to tow us out almost slides down the hill and into our car.
The driver from the blue tarp truck trying to gun it out of the ditch we were stuck in.
Teamwork makes the dream work.
...and some pushing.
The totality of the hill we had just scaled.
All said, it took more than an hour to climb that hill. The first of four challenges. Sigh.
By the time we got to the top, the car was having difficulties. It was overheating and the driver was having some trouble with the clutch and getting the car to switch gears. Our wheels were absolutely caked in mud - you could barely tell that there were any treads at all. We parked at the top of the hill for a while and eventually we were able to cool down enough to drive about 10 minutes down the road to the second obstacle. Even after only 10 minutes, the car was overheating again, so Darious (one of our Liberian staff members) ran down to collect some water from a stream/puddle so we could cool it off a bit more effectively.
Mud much?
The road ahead.
Trying to figure out what is wrong with the car.
Ah yes, overheating.
Waiting for the truck to cool down.
Made it to the second obstacle, and overheated again.
Darious, Daniel, and Josh trying to get the engine to cool down.
We caught up with our friends in the blue tarp truck before tackling the second hill. Casually, our driver said "oh, there is the dead body car." Uhhhhhhhhh.....what? Turns out that under that blue tarp, the other truck was transporting a coffin with a dead body in it, who was being returned to their ancestral lands in the south. After reaching Barclayville they needed to continue on by foot and canoe through the bush, crossing three rivers until they reached the town the person had been from. What a journey.
We would continue to play leapfrog with the dead body car for much of the afternoon.
The second hill definitely looked like even more of a challenge than the first. There was a downward slope into a little valley that was totally flooded, and then a climb up the other side. The whole thing was covered in mud roughly the consistency of organic peanut butter that was several inches deep. In the valley, there was a muddy pool several feet deep - a fact we only knew because there was already another car deeply mired in it. They had been stuck a while, in fact the driver was sleeping in the back as we passed. Most people seemed to agree that the cars were easier to get up the hills with the lightest load possible, so most people had left their cars and motorbikes to climb up the slippery side of the hill and alleviate extra weight from their vehicles.
The way forward.
Wellllll this does not bode well...
Our car and the "dead body car" at the top of the hill.
The dead body car decided to go first. They made it down the hill, through the pit in the valley, and about 80% of the way up the hill. Unfortunately, they skidded out of control and ended up deeply wedged in the embankment on the side of the hill. For a while, they tried to get out, but only succeeded in spinning their tires more deeply into the mud. Somehow, our driver was able to make it through the pit and up the hill, although it was incredibly difficult and took multiple tries. Since they had helped us at the last hill, we tried to help the dead body car get out, however our truck was so overheated (and still struggling to shift) that it wasn't possible for us to tow them out. Over an hour later another 4-wheel drive truck approached from the opposite direction and tried to tow them out. None of the trucks had the proper towing equipment (chains or thick tow bands) so they used all we had - a couple of ropes. As the tow truck pulled, and the dead body car's driver gunned the engine, everyone else tried to push and rock the car to get it to move. The tow ropes snapped, and we couldn't get the truck to budge.
At that point, we had been on the road for more than 6 hours and had only traversed two of the challenging sections that stood between us. We had no choice but to leave them behind. Travelers in that car ended up calling and having some people come from the opposite direction, who then carried the the coffin to a place where they could be picked up. Thanks to all the rocking and bumping, the casket had broken open. We didn't see them again for the rest of our trip.
Dead body car tries to make a go of it.
And aaaaaalmost makes it
Going up to help push.
Gunning the engine and spinning the ties.
Overheated. Their driver surveying the damage.
Somehow, our driver makes it up the second hill.
Getting hooked up to the rescue vehicle.
This pushing and rocking probably led to the casket breaking...
Eventually, the rope snapped.
Around 2:00pm (remember, we left at 7:30am!) we were back on the road. Sort of. Our car was having a lot of trouble at this point. We were pretty much totally unable to shift gears, and therefore couldn't get very far. We limped along for an hour or so, coasting as far as we could and then hopping out to push the car up hills. We were exhausted, soaked, and covered in mud. We didn't make it very far - perhaps about a kilometer - before it became clear that we wouldn't be able to go any further. Our driver got under the car and looked around, and it became apparent that the first two hills had rendered our car unusable. We had totally burned out the clutch, and the pressure plate (apparently an integral piece to...you know....drive) was cracked.
After summiting the second mud hill, this was our view. I think we made it to just about the next small hill in the distance before our truck totally died.
Investigating the cause of our problems.
By around 3:00pm it was clear that we would be here for a while. Our car wasn't going to be able to make it forward without a mechanic...however the last place we had passed that was likely to have a mechanic was Greenville....which we had left 7+ hours before. NOT IDEAL. Around 4:30pm our driver caught a passing motorbike on its way back to Greenville and...then we were alone. In the middle of the Liberian jungle.
Our home for the night.
The place where our car broke down had almost no reception - you had to climb a small hill on the roadside to get to a place where there was even a little bit of reception. We were able to contact our office in Monrovia, who said they would try to get another car to come rescue us, and took stock of what we had in the car. Unfortunately, we were woefully unprepared for an unexpected overnight. We had impressively little water (I think we were down to about 1.5-2 liters), some chocolate protein powder, and half a can of nuts left. Not a lot to choose from! Sigh. Most of our devices were dying at this point - I had used up my cell battery (which went especially fast since we were going in and out of cell coverage) and the external charger I brought was on its way out. I used my computer for a bit until it died, and killed some time reading. It was raining on and off, and only a handful of vehicles passed in either direction.
Eventually it got dark and we settled into the car to avoid the steadily falling rain. Darious and Daniel took the front seats and Josh and I had the back seats. We balanced Josh's computer on the gearshift and used up the rest of his battery watching Boondock Saints. Weird choice, right? But what could have been weirder about our situation?
I slept surprisingly well that night, given that we were in a rather warm car where we could barely roll down the windows since it was raining. Josh got up every few hours to climb the little hill and touch base with staff at the office in Monrovia, who were quite concerned about us. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't greatest, but it could have been much worse! At this point I was glad that we were on the less traveled road, since it may have been dangerous had someone come across us in the night.
The next morning we were up early and treated to a beautiful sunrise in the forest. We made some chocolate protein shakes with some of the last of the water, and started to make contingency plans for how we were going to get the hell out of there since we had been unable to get in contact with our driver since he left the night before. Since it wouldn't be possible for us to continue on in our current vehicle, the decision was made to send a 4-wheel drive truck that had already made it to Monrovia back to pick us up on the road. Great!
One small problem, though.
During their journey south, this car had experienced some damage to their 4-wheel drive locks, which meant you couldn't keep it in 4-wheel drive (and so, it was essentially just a regular truck). This was a major problem because, as you may recall, we still had two more gauntlets to conquer before we made it to the easier road to Barclayville. One was another hill (like the ones that had taken more than five hours to climb the day before) and the other was a deep pit of mud. They thought the driver could make it through the pit, but that if he came down the third hill, he would not be able to make it back up.
Good morning, sunshine.
Morning in the bush.
Foggy morning.
Our poor little broken car.
Love these leaves.
More sunshine.
Nobody out here but us.
Darious, Josh, and Daniel in the one spot where we had reception.
Thank god for that tiny hill, haha.
Looking towards Barclayville....so very far away.
Goodbye ,jungle home!
In order to prevent getting ANOTHER car stuck in the jungle, it was determined that we should meet our second car at the top of the third hill, which was about a 20 minute drive away. There was no way we could take our car - if for no other reason than the fact that our driver still hadn't returned with the keys! - so we had to make other plans. The most obvious solution was to just jump on passing motorbikes with the things we could carry, get dropped off at the bottom of the hill, walk to the top, and meet our new ride.
And that's when I had an actual panic attack.
I do not like motorcycles or motorbikes. At all. I will not ride them - not on paved roads and certainly not through deep mud. The idea that I might be forced to get on one literally had me in tears. I was ready to walk several hours in the mud before getting on a motorbike. Thankfully, Josh talked me off a ledge and got me breathing correctly again. Through a few calls and discussions with passing vehicles, they were somehow able to coordinate a different ride for me with a passing National Elections Commission vehicle. The NEC was preparing for the Liberian presidential election in a couple of months, and were some of the only government related vehicles we had seen on the road. Mostly the trucks belonged to various international aid organizations (UNICEF, etc) or NGOs.
The truck picked me up and four Liberians squeezed into the backseat so I could ride co-pilot. So incredibly thankful for the help of strangers. We chatted a bit about the conditions of the road and the upcoming elections during the roughly 20 minute drive to the third obstacle. We all clambered out at the bottom of the hill, which was slightly steeper, shorter, and muddier than the first one we had tackled the day before. At this point, my last remaining battery - the one on my phone - was down to about 10%, so I switched to my DSLR so I would be able to use my phone to reach the driver of the second car at the top of the hill.
My lifesaver of a ride.
The third obstacle to overcome.
The truck on the right had already been stuck there for several hours. Promising.
Starting the climb.
Setting up the tow lines for the NEC truck.
My NEC friends (and Daniel, who had caught a motorbike behind me) taking a load off while we waited for their truck to get towed and the rest of our group to arrive.
Quite the audience.
Getting ready to pull them up.
I met the driver of our second car at the top of the hill, dropped off my stuff, chugged a small bottle of water that he had in the car, hooked up my phone to charge, and waited for everyone else to get there. The rest of our group (Daniel, Darious and Josh) each caught motorbikes behind me and arrived over the next few hours. The driver of our original vehicle ended up coming back around 10:30am, with a mechanic in tow. They ended up basically taking apart the engine on the side of the road, but were unable to fix it. Josh, Darious, and Daniel helped for a while, but eventually had to throw in the towel and abandon the car so we could make our way south.
We had to leave almost everything in the truck, except for a few small things (mostly tech and things we needed immediately for training and launch) that could fit on the motorbike. We even paid a motorbike driver to ferry a few more bikes full of supplies from the car we had left behind to the one we would take onward. The NEC team made it up the hill and were on their way.
When all of our team arrived we loaded into our second vehicle, a snappy maroon SUV, and headed out. Fairly soon we hit a teeeeeeeeeeeeny tiny little town called Wakpo, which basically consisted of a handful of houses and a little shop. We eagerly bought some water, fruit, and snacks and reveled being back in (relative) civilization. And then we were back on the road.
Well hullo, Wakpo.
Tiny little store to the rescue.
Aaaand here we go again.
As astute readers might recall, we had been told that there were four especially difficult areas on the road from Greenville to Barclayville....and we've only hit three so far. The last patch would prove to be a real doozy. Our second car had struggled to navigate even the flatter mud patches due to our 4-wheel drive problems, and there were concerns with whether or not we would be able to traverse the last big obstacle on the road. The decision was made to call ahead and get ANOTHER car to meet us on the other side of the upcoming mud pit. Yes, for those of you keeping track, this is 3 cars in two days.
We made it up the small hill leading to the mud pit, and turned a corner to find a flat patch, maybe a few hundred feet long, with mud that ranged from ankle to knee deep. It was a mess. There were already several cars totally stuck in the mud, and a number of boys who were there waiting to push more vehicles through. It was already almost 5:00pm when we reached the pit, nearly 10 hours into our journey. There was no way that our vehicle could make it through the pit without 4-wheel drive, so we were glad to learn that our THIRD car was waiting on the other side of the pit. There were several cars and motorbikes waiting to go through the pit before we could even get into a position with the second car that stuff could be transported to the third, so we killed a little time watching cars spin out and slide all over the place. It was bonkers.
Our second car, which barely made it up this hill.
What a mess.
This car had been on the road for over a week.
One of the guys who set up shop to help push people through the mud.
View from the other side.
Our THIRD vehicle waiting on the other side of the pit.
Waiting for some cars to cross.
Organic peanut butter.
A motorbike trudging through.
SOME people were able to make it through, but it was tough going.
Mud everywhere.
There was one especially overloaded truck that was full of passengers - some of whom had babies and small children with them - and about an entire truck load of stuff strapped to the roof. They had been on the road from Monrovia over a week already, and kept getting stuck in mud, which was understandable given the collective weight of all their cargo. They needed a ton of help to even make a go of the mud pit.
Getting ready to start the trip across.
And...then...THIS HAPPENED. I almost had a heart attack. Those kids were SO CLOSE to being crushed.
The driver was okay, he hopped out, covered in mud (and strangely not wearing pants?). They ended up having to unload everything from the top of the car before they could even right it, long after we left.
Ugh goodbye mud pit.
Loading up car THREE so we can head out.
We were able to get all of our stuff over to the third car, load it up, and get back on the road by about 5:45pm. It was way too late to go all the way to Harper, so we ended up driving about another 4 hours to Barclayville, where we grabbed some food, got to the hotel, ditched our muddy shoes (thanks to the staff that cleaned them!), took our first shower in a few days (thanks to the staff who heated up water for our bucket baths!), checked our emails, grabbed a beer, and went to bed. We had been on the road more more than 13 hours.
The next morning we woke up ready to FINALLY GET TO GOD DAMN HARPER. We left the hotel a little after 7:00am, and stopped "downtown" to get some food and water (LESSON LEARNED, LIBERIA). The last stretch was significantly more populated than the one before...meaning that we went through tiny towns every once in a while, haha. It took about 4 hours to get to the paved roads outside of Harper and our new home-away-from-home.
Pretty much ready to never see a truck again...
Our lovely little hotel.
Barclayville suburbs?
Young Liberian dudes can put away more rice in a single sitting than anyone I've ever seen.
On the road agaiiiin...
Still raining. Charming.
Lots of little towns.
HOLY SHIT WE ARE BACK ON PAVED ROAAAADS!
No one has ever been happier to see pavement.
Rooftop views from our new office!
All told, it took us almost exactly 76 hours - door to door - to get from our office in Monrovia to our office in Harper. SEVENTY SIX HOURS TO GET TO A CITY 250 MILES AWAY. Gahhhhhh.
We settled into our office in the south, which was a guest house that we rented out. It was right near the tip of the cape, which led to great views and utterly shit internet connectivity. Seriously, terrible. We tried hooking up internet boosters, but we could barely get cell reception. You had to stand along the edges of our (glorious) roof deck in order to get enough reception to make calls. Not the most ideal setting for an office coordinating a launch of 43 schools remotely, haha. When it rained, it was even worse...and it rained a LOT. I don't know if I've ever experienced torrential downpours like I did in Liberia. It was just like buckets of water were being poured in every direction.
The red building was our office, one of the last buildings in the "upper cape."
Just a little morning rain....
The office had rooms that could be used for training, an admin office, the outdoor patio area, and rooms for us to sleep in. My room overlooked the ocean and I got to go to sleep to the crash of waves and rain on the tin roof all the time, which was pretty great. Our bathroom also had an immersion heater (it looks kind of like an egg beater, but heats up so you can put it in water so you have hot water for your bucket bath...it is genius and the best) which was very exciting. You take what you can get.
We soon settled into a kind of a routine: wake up, have coffee (Josh) and tea (me) on the roof, and get to work. We were juggling a lot of things at once - a training, launch prep, etc - so we were running around a lot. Since our office was in the mostly-deserted upper cape, there were very few choices for food. In fact...there was one. Next to our office there was a small guest house, and the owners had a little restaurant and bar across the street. It was a lifesaver - egg sandwiches for breakfast, delicious chicken and jollof rice, and cold drinks (usually). They also had the sweetest dogs, including one named Chino that we discussed smuggling out of the country.
On sunny days our view was gorgeous.
No better place for morning tea.
Perfection.
Morning fishing boats.
They would also take out boats to catch sea birds, which kids dragged around and sold for food.
Sunset.
This was actually from the roof of the Partners in Health building down the street.
Abandoned houses beside our office and incoming rain storms.
Beautiful.
Josh on the phone on the roof, my standard view.
Cooking a giant pot of jollof rice.
Yuuuum.
SO GOOD.
View off the other side of the cape from the restaurant.
One day while eating breakfast I was watching the son of the restaurant owner play with what looked like a matchbox car, pushing it around, etc. Then I looked closer and realized it was a GIANT BEETLE. Take what you can get, I guess.
Again, rice portions here are OUT OF CONTROL, haha.
Mama dog. I wanted to have her spayed while we were there, but there are no vets in Maryland and the doctors wouldn't do it. Sad.
Chino, our little love.
Nap level: Professional.
As I mentioned earlier, the internet in our office was TERRIBLE. Thankfully, we had some connections at Partners in Health, who have a beautiful office in Harper and allowed us to come in and use their (relatively) fast and reliable internet. I don't know what we would have done without them! PIH was the only other office in the upper cape, and there was a small hostel and three or four abandoned buildings between our office and theirs. I spent a fair amount of time on that little stretch of road, going back and forth between our offices.
I quickly learned that I did not want to go out around the early afternoon because that's when local kids were bringing in the birds they caught to sell in town...and it was horrifying. Mostly young boys would go out into the water off the cape and catch petrels (medium sized sea birds), which they they brought back to sell. Often I would emerge from the office in the afternoon to find a gaggle of 5-6 boys dragging or carrying 20 or so birds down the street. They were usually alive, sometimes tied to strings or with their wings broken so they couldn't get away. It was really upsetting. In the beginning they offered to sell me one, but given the strength of my response they stopped asking pretty quickly.
Bill working in the PIH office...and Josh trying to get some privacy for a call.
Thrilled to be entering hour 4000 of calls.
View of a small memorial from the top of the PIH building.
I've said it before and I'll say it again: Harper is one strange city. Living in it only confirmed that. Our office was at the "top of the cape" which is both on top of a hill and at the end of the cape. Southern Liberia is very superstitious, and Charlene, one of our staff members originally from the south kept warning Josh and I that we shouldn't walk around at night or stray too far from the beaten path because Harper is "gboyo" country (silent g, pronounced like boy-oh). Gboyo is a specific kind of blood magic related to ritualistic killing and mutilation. As described by The Economist, "body parts such as the heart, blood, tongue, lips, genitals and fingertips, all used in sorcery to bring wealth and power, are removed. Then the body is dumped." A book on Voodoo Killers by Joseph Carlson, the perpetrators believe that they will gain wealth and power from these body parts using sorcery.
Gboyo practices are also associated with political power and gain. "Politicians used it to seek power and instead of being supposedly for the good of the community - wrong though that may be - it was for individual gain only. In 2008, Milton Blayhi, also known as 'General Butt Naked,' who had been a warlord in the long civil war, admitted to eating the hearts of children before going into battle. He would pluck out the heart and it would be divided into pieces to be eaten. Blahyi led his troops into battle totally naked except for his shoes and a gun, a practice, he claimed that had been demanded of him by the devil." "Blahyi believed he had magical powers and could become invisible. He also claimed that he met the devil regularly and held conversations with him from the age of eleven to twenty-give, he participated in in monthly human sacrifices." (Source) Since we were approaching the new round of presidential elections, there was some concerns that gboyo activity would increase.
Maryland County, and Harper specifically, have a long history of gboyo practices. In fact, "the Harper Masonic Temple or ‘Gboyo Center’ was reportedly used as meeting hall for individuals who were believed to be involved in ritualistic activities in the county." (Source) At multiple points throughout the early 2000s, curfews were introduced to prevent people from being out at night, when there was a higher chance of being abducted or killed. Because the (now abandoned) masonic temple was located in the "upper cape" section of Harper, many people were afraid to even walk near it at night. Many motorbike taxis would refuse to carry people from downtown Harper past the temple to our office, so even if I had been open to riding on them they might not have been an option.
And I want to be clear, this isn't an outdated practice. This was a news article immediately after we returned to Monrovia from the south. Grand Kru County is one county north of Maryland, where Harper is located.
Maybe not super intelligently, Josh and I would sometimes walk downtown to Harper (a maybe 15 minute walk) to get food at night when we were bored of the stall across the street. It was eerie - the streets were mostly deserted (except for squatters in the old Tubman Palace) until we got downtown. In the main part of town there was usually a lot of bustle and activity. There were a few places with really good food - Sea Rock, a stall that served up fresh grilled fish, etc - and sometimes you just had to get out of the office. One night we walked downtown and it was like the rapture had occurred. No one was out, everything was silent. It was really strange. Just as we got to the bottom of the cape a family of wild boars, a mother and a few piglets, ran across the street in front of us...but they were basically the only living things we saw that night until we got to Sea Rock. It was super creepy.
I only got sick once on this trip, though we were subsisting almost entirely off of street food. When I got sick it was REALLY sick though, the kind of sick where you just want to curl up in a ball and not move. I was slightly concerned that I might have malaria, and even talked to some PIH doctors about getting tested, but I rebounded after about 48 hours so I'm pretty sure the culprit was street-stall chicken, not a mosquito.
Mostly we were welcomed, if not gawked at, in town. Harper has a fair amount of aid organizations that come in and out, so there's some level of exposure to foreign aid workers. I never felt unsafe, and there was only one night when I felt at all uncomfortable, when a man started following Josh and I a bit too closely as we headed back towards the office. When that happened, we simply stopped and talked to a young Liberian man hanging out with his friends who walked back with us to the office, chatting, to make sure we were okay.
Driving through Harper, part 1.
Driving through Harper, part 2.
School started, at most of our locations, on September 5. There were grand opening ceremonies held that week, and things were honestly off to a kind of rocky start. We were scrambling to do some building and repairs (schools ranged from 40 to 1200 students in size!) and making sure technology was working for everyone. One of the biggest challenges was that staff from the majority of our schools in the south had to travel more than a half an hour by motorbike (not cheap!) in order to reach the closest town with a GENERATOR. Not permanent electricity, a generator. We also had some schools in locations where there was little to no reception, so we couldn't even call to check on them. Most of our training staff switched over to area managers after training was done, so we had staff in the field every day travelling around to check on schools and make sure stuff was in order.
Classes underway at Harper Demonstration!
I cannot say enough positive things about our Liberian training staff. Honestly. The first year, we trained using a mixture of US and Kenyan staff. While all of us had worked for Bridge for a significant period of time, and knew what we were talking about, we came in with strange accents and fast talk and I don't think the trainees got as much out of our training as they could have. However, we did something right, because all of our fantastic trainers the second year had spent the first year as a Bridge teacher or Principal. The were hand-picked from existing schools for their strong performance, excitement about the opportunity to grow, and generally positive attitudes. They were so good, and I was (and am!) so proud of them. Seeing their growth over the past year is one of the highlights of my five years working for Bridge.
Top row, L to R: Josh, Lovetta, Jonathan, Spencer, Sean, John, Varnell Bottom row, L to R: Omaru, Napolean Not pictured: Darious (below!), Teerix, Gabe
Darious, a freaking RAY OF SUNSHINE, who somehow missed the pic above. Honestly, without exaggeration, one of the best humans I've ever met. Constantly positive, constantly wonderful to work with. A total gem.
On September 10, eleven days after we got stuck in the mud, and thirteen days after we left Monrovia, our car finally made it to Harper. It was a mad rush to unload, package, and distribute the supplies to schools which were already underway. The truck also included a bag of Josh's personal items, including running shoes and a giant tub of chocolate protein powder. Somehow the protein powder had exploded in the bag, and during 11 days of sitting in a wet, rainy, jungle it had started to mold. It is kind of making me gag thinking about it...it was in his shoes and all over everything. GAH. Nothing like rinsing moldy protein powder out of your shoes in a bucket under the light of a headlamp, haha.
I wasn't honestly sure we'd see this truck again...
Mmmm protein smoothie. (Puuuke.)
Before I knew it, my additional three weeks were up and I had to get back to Monrovia. I left Harper on Monday, September 11 in preparation for my flight back to the US on Wednesday, September 13. As I said on my Facebook page:
"Sometimes I have to stop marvel at the strange life I've chosen to lead, leaving little pieces of myself tucked in far flung places around the world.
One of my favorite camp songs as a child was Third Fence Post, which includes the lines "I've been sitting here thinking 'bout leaving when I wanted to stay the most. So I went outside and left a piece of my heart buried by the third fence post. So when tomorrow morning comes, I'll be smiling (though I might seem a little down). Cause though my body's leaving, I'll still be around."
On this trip, Liberia has - wholly unexpectedly and somewhat inexplicably - really carved itself a place in my heart. I know it is partially the company (special shout out to Josh and Sean), partially the fervor/excitement/madness/magic of launch, and partially just the unique head space I'm in right now, but this has definitely been a trip that will stay with me for a long time.
Today I go back to Monrovia, and Wednesday to the US, but I've definitely left a piece of me buried under an abandoned building on this rainy, windswept, little cape in the heart of gboyo country. Thanks for being uniquely special, Harper."
LUCKILY, there was a seat available on the plane, so I was treated to beautiful views of the country as I flew back. In fact, I was sitting right behind the (empty) co-pilot seat, so I could see out the front window as well. It was pretty incredible.
What a view.
Pre-flight checklists.
And we are ready to go!
Taking off!
Looking back towards Harper.
Beaches and palm trees.
The entire cape.
Upper cape, you can see our office (reddish) where the small part of the upside-down L meets the long part.
Rainy season looks good on Liberia.
Up we go!
Looking out the front window.
It was a PERFECT day to fly.
Everything was so lush.
Beautiful!
So many little rivers and tributaries.
Straight lines of palm plantations.
Think about products you use that contain palm oil!
Our pilot, doing his thing.
Getting closer to Monrovia.
Heading into some clouds.
And suddenly, everything was white.
Hello again, Monrovia.
Population getting a little more dense.
We also flew over lots of flooding.
Coming in for landing at Spriggs Payne.
I spent the last two days in Monrovia trying to tie up loose ends (and getting to eat some delicious food that hadn't been available in the south, haha). Josh flew back on Wednesday morning and I had some time to say my goodbyes to Josh and Sean, both of whom made this trip memorable and full of laughter. They're both good at managing/ShamWow-ing my stress and thinking through new ideas and solutions, so we made a good team. Josh ended up moving to DC a few weeks later, and Sean has taken over as the Academic Director in Liberia. Hats off to both of them - I honestly don't think I could do it. Impressed by their drive, grace, and dedication.
Last day in the office, already nostalgic for these two.
Seano with some trainees.
This guy. No caption necessary.
By Wednesday night, I was READY. TO. GO. HOME. But, of course, Liberia wouldn't make it easy for me. A driver I didn't know came to pick me up at the office for the 60 mile ride out to Roberts International Airport. Terrible traffic made me late for the airport, but I had received a notification that our flight was delayed 45 minutes, so I figured I was fine. Roberts has two terminals, which are a few kilometers apart and not connected in any way, soo you are not allowed to walk between them. UNFORTUNATELY, did NOT know this when my driver dropped me off at terminal A and peeled out. He had just left when I was told by the guard at the terminal that I was at the wrong place. At this point I was super cranky, so when other taxi drivers tried to charge me $5 to go from one terminal to the next, I refused.
I evetually got in touch with Josh who was able to call the driver and send him back so he could take me to the other terminal. I was dropped at terminal B and arrived at the door to find it locked. I was there about 2 hours before our scheduled take-off, and almost 3 hours before our new estimated take-off time. However, a guard told me that I was too late and the desk was closed. Until Friday. When the next KLM flight departed.
I'm not proud to say I lost my shit a little, haha. Even more than just being ready to go, I had plans back in the States that weekend (a college reunion and a wedding) that I would miss if I couldn't leave until Friday. So, I argued. Then I cried and begged. Finally they let me in. I checked in and got to immigration...where I learned that I have overstayed my 30 day visa stamp (something that never crossed my mind because I had a 2 YEAR business visa sticker). Apparently you need both, and if you didn't get your stamp extended you're basically an illegal immigrant. I tried to talk my way out (I can literally see people lining up at my gate at this point and my nerves are on their last edge) but he kept saying that I was going to have to go to court, and I couldn't fly out and blah blah blah.
I'm ALSO not proud of the fact that, just to get the hell out, I paid a $40 bribe to the immigration officer and promised to find him an American wife (but only one who knows how to cook on wood fire). EYE ROLL. I made it through security, boarded my plane, and traced my outward journey back: Monrovia to Amsterdam, to New York City, to DC.
