Container

Just a brief note to say the container has arrived. We have been waiting for so long. We are all pretty tired as we spent today unloading it. Check out the photos on my becs pics link. I will write more later. Until then, TTFN. BEC

How I can tell I am in Liberia:

10. When I am woken up by Joy either kicking me or elbowing me in her sleep.
9 When I am woken up by roosters crowing at 4:30am
8. When I am woken up by goats bleating at 6am
7. When I have to kill a cockroach that climbed on me whilst in the shower (there is also a very large spider that lives in the bathroom. He hangs out on the wall. He eats mosquitos, or at least he better be. I always get a little nervous when I am brushing my teeth, and I see him on the wall above the mirror, and I think, he could just drop down, and land right on me if he wanted, and have flash backs to Arachniphobia. I try not to dwell on those thoughts)
6. When Whiskers the cat kills a mouse in my room
5. Having people yell at me everytime I am out on the street
4. When we eat dinner by candlelight every night
3. When I eat rice at least once a day
2. When I get to grind my own meat for spaghetti sauce
1. When I get to roast my own peanuts for snack.

I know these things can occur in other countries, like I am pretty sure Canadians own both goats and roosters, but for me, it is purely a Liberian experience. And there really is nothing like freshly roast peanuts, or even home made peanut butter. I will be honest though, I wasn’t thrilled that Whiskers ate the mouse in my room, but I was glad that she got rid of it. It isn’t too fun having to clean mouse poo off the bathroom counter. I try not to think about my tooth brush. I might have to start sleeping with it under my pillow. This evening Josh came to my room and said “Aunty Bec comes see the fish the Boakai’s gave us” so I went out, and there was this giant fish. Onesimus and I took it out to the back porch and gutted it. The fish here are different. They have things in different spots. A salmon is much easier to gut.

Adult Literacy

It is hard to imagine, coming from Canada, a place where more than half the population doesn’t read or write. Its more like 70% of the people don’t read or write. When I do my kids club it sometimes poses problems. LIke, getting children to act out a skit. You can’t give them lines to read. You have to take them, say their line, and get them to repeat it several times so they memorize it, then during the skit, you have to cue each child when it is their turn. To teach new songs, there are no song sheets, no overhead projector, no writing on the board. You just sing that song over and over and over until they know it. It isn’t too bad, but I know with my accent, some of the words, they don’t understand what I am singing. I try and explain the meaning of each song, so they can understand what and why we are singing. I have started writing out our memory verses up on the board. I know only perhaps three or four of the kids can read it, but I say each word as I write, and figure, it all contributes to learning.
Last week was my debut as an Adult Literacy teacher. Its funny how I can get so worried about things. Like, how am I going to be able to teach anything. As it turns out, my first class I had one student. I gained one more student the second class. Two students. I am praying for more. But really, if I can help these two young men improve their ability to communicate and understand in a written format, I will be very pleased. Henry is 28, and works at a bulk food store. He finished grade 6 back in 1989 I believe, but because of the war, did not continue. His reading level is about a grade three level. Mathiew is 24 and a tailor. He finished grade 9 in the Ivory Coast, but is trying to improve his English, he says he wants to join the military. We read Dr. Seuss yesterday Hop on Pop. He could read most words, but had trouble with his p’s, w’s and th’s. So, thus far, it is more like tutoring than teaching, but I hope that I can help at least two people. (still hoping for a few more though) Kathleen will start teaching her beginner class and teachers class (for people wanting to teach Adult Literacy) as soon as we get our container from the port, and have all that paper work out of the way. It is hard for people to take time away from work to go to school, but I do believe it will benefit them in the end. Most people here are barely scraping by. Living here makes me appreciate public school back home so much. I attended elementary school in Revelstoke, then Chemainus El. and still can remember many of the lessons I learned there. I had so many amazing teachers, that obviously loved their jobs, and took time to prepare and to instill the basics in me as well as my classmates. I remember in Kindergarten, I had trouble with my b’s and d’s, getting them backwards. I am glad my teacher took the time to help me with that. In grade three I had a speech impediment, I couldn’t say sssss. I said thhhh. So, I would go off with a speech therapist, who would make me say baths baths baths, over and over. I am also very thankful for her. I know our school system has its faults, but they are trying. Education is a gift, that I am very thankful to have recieved, and now that I am older, I have the skills to educate myself, and others around me. I have been working on a biology degree for the past few years, and every class I take, I am amazed at the complexity of life and matter. God created an amazing world, and has given us these minds to discover and retain all sorts of information. The more I study, for instance about plants, the more I appreciate them. We were walking on the beach on Sunday, and there is grass growing there, in the sand. Wow, not every plant can grow in the sand. It takes some special adaptations to be able to do that. Today I was reading about muscle tissue, and I am so thankful God created me with smooth muscle tissue, that involuntarily moves food through my digestive tract. Education is a gift, and I hope, in my small way, that I can share it with a few people here, so they can better understand and appreciate their world, and to have greater skills for work and everyday lfie.

Quiet Afternoon

I think its amazing. This morning I slept it. I was very happy to. Normally the goats start bleating and chickens start their cock-a-doodle-doo far too early for my likings. Anyhow. This morning, there was no noise, except for the pouding of rain on the rooftop. Ah, the rain that drowns out all other noise, the rain that keeps the pesky goats and chickens inside their pens, the rain that keeps it nice and cool, so we can sleep at night. Now, this afternoon, the sun is shining, the birds cheep softly, and the house is beautifully quiet. Yes, the family is all out. It is nice to have a few minutes of sun, solitude and silence.This morning as I walked out to the car, with my umbrella, ankle deep in water (from all the rain) I was not feeling as amiable towards the rain. It is tricky, to get in the car, and shut the umbrella and to close the door, without getting absolutely drenched. I think perhaps there is a trick that I am not familiar with. We had a meeting this morning downtown, with Group of 77 in regards to resettlement. We parked on the road instead of driving into the yard. We walked across the road, and of course the road was flooded, thankfully I was wearing flippy flops, and so waded through the garbage strewn water and prayed that I didn’t step into anything yucky. Kathleen was wearing nice shoes, and so she had to walk half a block down the road to find somewhere she could ford the stream. Point one for flippyflops. After our meeting, Kathleen had another meeting, so I just sat quietly in the corner. The next business of the day, going to the Ministry of Finance to see if the form that needs to be signed by some person, was signed yet. We arrive, it is now drizzling, but I have forgotten the umbrella at Group of 77. Oh well. Our destination is the 7th floor. We walk in, and for the first time, I notice people entering the elevator. I say, the elevators work, Kathleen says yes. This is my third time, and we have never taken the elevator. Apparently, all this time, it has been functioning. OH well, I guess the excersize is good for us, so we hoof it to the 7th floor. We arrive. Security tells some man to move so I can sit down, and Kathleen goes into the office. Minutes later she is out, following some man with our file. Down we go to the third floor. To some other man in another office. Apparently he can’t do anything, there are documents that they need. Kathleen says, this is the first I have heard of these documents. She has been going to Minister of Finance for at least a month now, chasing after documents for the release of our container. Ah, beaurocratic innefficiency. I sit and wonder how any work gets down in this place. It is a mystery. (remember, this is just an outsiders thinking). We leave. We are parked on a hill, one way. The traffic is moving very slowly. Kathleen decides to back up the road to the next intersection. I tell her, the last thing we need is to get pulled over by the police. She says, this is Liberia. Hm. I am definatley not Kathleen. We make it, after a little manouvering around a big tree root.
So. We are still waiting on documents to clear the container. We have a “duty free” waiver, but they want to charge about 1500 or so to clear it. So much for free.
I have started my Adult Reading/Writing class. Thus far I have one student. We have put advertisment on the radio, but the best way is by word of mouth. I am hoping for a few more student. My student is actually from Ivory Coast, and is hoping to improve his English skills, to improve his chances of getting gainful employement. Kathleen will start teaching, as soon as we recieve our container. Until then she is a bit tied up.
I am now half way through my trip here. In some ways it feels I have been here forever, but I am only here 12 more weeks. That doesn’t seem long at all. Tomorrow morning I will be going to my kids club up the road. We are doing stories about Jesus. They love to sing and to colour. I think we will have popcorn again for snack. I will try and remember the salt this time.
Last night, we had a bit of an accident. Joshy and I (my 13 year old nephew) were doing our evening dishes. He had boiled water to warm the rinse water (normally we wash in cold), and was about it add it when I turned around, and elbowed the kettle, he dropped it, splashing boiling water on himself, me and all over the floor. He also managed to get a giant gash on his big toe. There we were, him sitting on a chair with his feet in a bowl of cold water, me sitting on the floor with my feet in the same bowl when he says he doesn’t feel well. I say “the last thing I need on me is projectile vomit”. Thanks to Joy, he got a bucket just in time. I guess he can’t stand the sight of blood, much like his mother and father. Needless to say, neither of us were in any shape to do dishes, so we spent the rest of the evening with our feet in bowls of cold water, and with cold compresses on various body parts. We had some chocolate, which really helped the situation. The burns are really not bad, with me, one on my elbow and ankle, and him, one on his foot. It could have been so much worse, so we are very grateful it isn’t.
In some happy news, I have got a 2 month stamp in my passport. I can stay. Yay. I gave it to a lawyer we know, and he took it to immigration, and I am not sure what he did, but he came back with it stamped. What a relief. Thank you God.
Well I am sure, there is some kids club planning I need to look after, and I believe this is a bit long, so I will end here. Happy Thursday. BEC

Hello

I just wanted to write a little note of appreciation. I love getting all the little notes/comments people send. It is so fun for me to know that people all over can read my little musings and enjoying them. I love to write, so for me it is really fun. It has also been great to hear from friends and family while I am so far away. What is the saying, distance makes the heart grow fonder.
Today was Saturday, and I enjoyed a nice walk down the beach as the sun set this evening with some friends. It is so beautiful with the waves and the sky line. Just got a bit wet with the waves. Today the men were out shoveling red dirt for the road to James and Kathleens property, where we will put the container once we have emptied it. It is a big job. The road isn't very well defined, and people have put roads through the middle of lots, so you have to be sure to follow the cornerstone markers. The first truck broke down and then it was raining, so they only got two truckloads done. Perhaps next time I will join them, at least to cheer them on.

Anyhow, I hope everyone is happily back to school and enjoying the last few days of summer. Love to you all.

Bec in Liberia

Immigration

The joys of being in a foreign country. Dealing with immigration. I don’t have it all figured out. When I came, I applied for a 1 year visitor visa. When you arrive, they tell you at the airport, you have 48 hours, or for me 15 days, (I am not sure how they decide) to report to immigration. The first time Kathleen and I went. They tell me I can only be a visitor for 3 months total, then I have to leave, or become a resident. They go and come back with my passport stamped for 75 more days, to total the 90 days. It is now the end of my three months. We go, we sit in some office and talk to some man who works there. He explains the rules, I explain the ambiguity of their Embassy Website in Washington DC. They tell me my 1 year visa is really and entrance visa. The visa says, “Visitor Visa” it doesn’t say “Entrance Visa” No where on the website can I find where is says you can only stay as a visitor in the country for three months. I tell the man, I have no where else to go, I don’t know anyone in any other African Country, I haven’t made arrangements to leave so I can return for three more months. Besides, to get a visa to some other country will be at least $100 USD, plus the airfare. I am not too happy. To appy for residence, it is a one year permit, and costs well, more than I want to pay. The man when he looks at my passport notices the 75 day stamp. He calls an assistant. “who did this?” Apparently they are only supposed to stamp passports for 15, 30 or 60 days at a time. 75 days is not correct. We tell him some man on the second floor stamped it.
Any way I go about it, I am going to end up paying. I ask Kathleen, you think if I go to the US embassy they would stamp my passport saying I had left and entered the country?? I wish. Technicalities. I told Kathleen, I don’t want to do anything illegal. So it looks like I will become a resident. Arg. For three measly months. My passport is with the man at immigration. I am not too happy about that, hopefully Monday we will go and pick it up, and I will have entered some new state of residence. (Tuesday....Okay, I have been to the immigration. Still no visa. Waiting for some man to call who is contacting the commisioner. It is all very confusing to me. )
In other news, we had a package sent to us, about a month or so ago. It has arrived, we got a slip in our mailbox saying there is a package waiting for us. James went to get it, they tell him to come back, they can’t find it. He returns to find they have given the package to some other man who claims it was his name on the package. James says when he was there the employees were using peoples packages to sit on. So now we know how packages get squished in the mail:)
This is life. I guess you just have to go with the flow. We are very sad about the gummy bears in the package.
In other news. We got our duty free status, now we just need our broker to get all the other paper work to free our container from the port. The saga continues.