Foya-Borma Hospital

I went on another hospital visit yesterday and I spent the afternoon training the Hospital Administrator on logistics and warehouse topics. It was very interesting. This hospital serves more than 70,000 people in the Foya District as well as people from nearby Guinea and Sierra Leone who come for the free medical care. It has about 103 staff including 1 full time doctor, 10 nurses and 6 midwives. It has 120 beds and an ambulance. In my last post I said a couple of times that anything was better than nothing. But it turns out that is not a universal sentiment. Even though the services are free, there are a complexity of issues that result in many Liberians not taking advantage of them. There is a general distrust and misunderstanding of "Western" medicine and a cultural dismissal of going to the hospital. My mother and grandmother never went to a hospital, why should I go? Organizations like mine do community outreach to try and educate the public on the services that are available and the need to seek treatment, but many people only come to the hospital when their condition is unbearable and they are often past the point of being treatable...or they never come at all and needlessly die. Sad.

Foya-Borma Hospital grounds

View over Foya town from the nurses' living quarters

Here they give children their vaccinations

Patients have their vital signs taken as they get in the queue to be screened

The "waiting room" for outpatient care

A woman in an exam room being screened by a nurse

The Records Room

The Laboratory

The Pharmacy

This is where the doctor and nurses scrub in for the Operating Room

This is the OR. Maybe this is all you need to conduct a surgery...but this room makes me shudder

One of the inpatient rooms in the Women's Ward

The Pre-Natal Ward

One of the rooms in the Pediatrics Ward

The ER

This is an example of a good intention gone bad. This ambulance was donated by the Liberian Vice President who received it from some European donors. But it is a Mercedes and can't really run over the rough terrain here. Plus, they can't easily get spare parts and mechanics don't really know how to work on them. So apparently this was only used a couple times and has now just been sitting there for like 3 years.

This is the kind of vehicle that can actually work as an ambulance. I'm telling you, Toyota Landcruisers are awesome.

Medical Care in Africa

Many people in the USA agree that our healthcare system is messed up. But, regardless of its negative aspects, give me an American hospital any day of the week, even if I have to pay my life savings for care. Rather your life savings than your life. 

Over the last year I have had the opportunity to visit hospitals and primary health care facilities in Kenya, South Sudan, and now Liberia. Most of them have consisted of concrete rooms stuffed with beds and benches outside where people sit or lie or sleep as they wait to be treated. Pharmacies are disordered and drugs have likely not been stored in the proper manner or temperature. Often there are no actual doctors (maybe a couple if it is a hospital) and there are just Nurses, Midwives and Clinical Officers. Overall they seemed like pretty miserable places to be in, let alone be sick in. But they are still a bazillion times better than having nowhere to go and no one to help you if you need help. Sometimes people have to walk or travel for days to even get to a clinic, that’s how few and far between they are. And there are rarely emergency services to come to your rescue if you are hurt. Sometimes there might be 1 ambulance in an entire district for 60,000 people.

An ambulance I saw in Liberia. Might not be so great...but anything is better than nothing at all.

The maternity ward at the hospital at the refugee camp in Dadaab, Kenya had some delivery rooms and then one large recovery room with maybe 50 beds in it with women and their babies lying around, most under some sort of mosquito net. It was about as different as you could possibly get from the nice, private delivery and recovery rooms you’d find in the USA.  But it is also a huge step up from having no hospital at all and giving birth in your small hut or UN provided tent in the camp. Sadly I don’t have pictures of it as I didn’t think it was appropriate to take photos while I was there.

One of the primary health care centers in Aweil Town in South Sudan was going to start doing deliveries instead of referring them to the nearest hospital. Below is a picture of the “delivery room”.

Exam room...soon to be delivery room.

I visited the “pediatrics ward” at a Primary Health Care Center in Panthou, South Sudan. It consisted of a concrete structure full of beds pushed up against each other and lots of mammas and their kids lying about.

Pediatrics Unit in South Sudan

In Liberia, the official figures state that there are 51 trained Liberian doctors…in a country of 3.5 million people! We help run some hospitals and health care centers in conjunction with the Ministry of Health. We provide capacity building (training for the MOH administration staff), supplies for the hospital, some ambulances and sometimes doctors and midwives. I visited one hospital and it had some nicer, newer buildings that we built. Goats were running all about and goat droppings littered the ground.

"Waiting Room" at a Primary Health Care Center in Panthou, South Sudan

Yesterday I heard about a guy in the town I’m in who was recently pronounced dead and as they were preparing to bury him they realized he was breathing and still alive! I’ve actually heard of this happening once before! When I was in Uganda, we had a vehicle accident at our base in South Sudan. We choppered the injured parties to Kampala for medical care. One guy was severely injured and later pronounced dead at the hospital.  We were preparing to write our condolences and I asked one of his colleagues for the proper way to address the letter. That’s when I was told that as they were preparing to bury him, they discovered he was actually alive! I have no idea if he ultimately survived his injuries, but I like to think that he did. Otherwise I have nightmares.

Dispensing medicine to a sick child in South Sudan

It is sad to see the state of healthcare in developing countries and I feel proud to work for an organization that does such good work providing care to some of the world’s most vulnerable people in some of the world’s most austere places.  Our medical systems in the West might not be perfect, but I’m thankful for them and feel lucky and really grateful that if I get sick, I don’t have to walk for days to get treated.

My Top 3 Exotic Desserts

Over the last few years I have eaten a variety of exotic and weird food.  In order to block from my mind the totally gross stuff I have tried, I am going to recommend to you the BEST stuff I have tried. Below are the three awesomest (and two weirdest) desserts that I have ever had and that I think everyone should eat at some point in their existence.

1) Tub Tim Krob – Thailand

I discovered Tub Tim Krob at the buffet in the Radisson Hotel in Bangkok. Okay, not the most exciting place in all of Bangkok to eat, but hey…it was a work thing, and free, so I’m not complaining. After having it on the 2^nd night of my trip, I purposely sought it out for just about every meal after that for the next 6 days.

Tub Tim Krob, or Red Rubies, is jellied water chestnuts in coconut milk. You add shaved or cubed ice to the milk to make it really cold. Sounds totally weird right? Well, it totally is. But it is also the most amazing dessert in the world (like totally J).

2) Um Ali (or Om Ali?) – Egypt by way of United Arab Emirates

I first tried Um Ali on a dinner boat cruise down the Dubai Creek. It was part of the dinner buffet and I remember wishing I hadn’t eaten any of the dinner cause then I probably would have had like 10 helpings.  I think I still had 3 anyway.

Um Ali (or Yum Ali as I like to call it) is a Middle Eastern bread pudding-ish sort of dessert, though I would say it’s a million times better than any bread pudding I’ve ever had. From what I’ve read about the dish, it originated in Egypt. I’ve seen some recipes that include raisins and others that have pistachios, pecans or hazelnuts, but in general it is puff pastry covered in cream, sweetened milk, almonds and coconut and baked to ooey-gooey perfection. This one doesn’t make the list of weird cause it’s not actually weird. But it does make the list of the best things you will ever put in your mouth.

3) Gajar Halwa – Pakistan by way of Liberia

I have never been to Pakistan, but I am now a huge fan of Pakistani food. As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, I’ve been eating dinner at the UN Pakistani Battalion in Voinjama, Liberia for the past few weeks and this is where I first encountered Gajar Halwa.

Gajar in Urdu means carrot and Halwa means sweet confection or dessert. Grated carrots are boiled in whole milk until the carrots are cooked and the milk forms little carrot colored curds (say that 5 times fast!) Throw in a little cardamom and a tiny bit of sugar and Bob’s your uncle.  It takes a couple bites to get used to the texture and to wrap your mind around the fact that the tasty treat you’re eating is made of carrots and milk curds, but once you do that…well, it is delish. Maybe it doesn’t win the prize for the best dessert ever, but it’s both weird and tasty and something I actually get to have here, so it’s definitely on my list of favorites. Plus, how can you feel guilty about eating carrots for dessert?

The Long and Winding Road

Ah, ye mighty Landcruiser! You indomitable driving machine. Your name is just not fitting. It is too calm and serene. You should be called the Road Warrior...for you firmly the kick the ass of any pothole, washboard, divet, ditch, protruding rock, river bed, trench, crater, sinkhole, or silly goat or chicken that happens to get in your way.

Over the past 13 months I have spent countless hours in a Landcruiser. Sometimes packed in the back on a bench seat while my internal organs play bumper cars as we bounce along the dirt roads and sometimes, like last Friday, crammed in the middle front “seat” with my arms all pins and needles as I try to steady myself with my hand against the roof and my legs all twisted up to avoid my thigh from impeding the gear shift.

Every Friday in Liberia is our STS (Staff Transport System) where vehicles from each of the main regions set out in the morning to converge on a central-ish meeting spot to swap passengers and cargo. The meeting point is a town called Gbarnga (pronounced Bonga) which is 4 hours away from where I am living in Voinjama. I am working on some initiatives with our suppliers and two of our main ones happen to be in Gbarnga, so, I thought it might be worthwhile to ride on the STS and meet with them. Turns out these businesses are Lebanese owned (like many of the good restaurants and shops in Liberia) and the owners were pretty astute businessmen. My meetings lasted about 5 minutes each. So, 8 hours of driving through the crazy, bumpy jungle roads for 10 minutes of work.

But driving in Liberia is always an interesting adventure. I never feel bored as there are endless things to see along the way. Whether marveling at the solid walls of jungle that sometimes line either side of the road, or staring off in wonder at the sweeping vistas of rolling jungle hills, or waving back at all the little children who smile and call to you as you pass by, or wondering how that lady can carry such a huge bundle of firewood on her head, with a baby on her back and a bucket in one hand and a machete in the other. Watching the other cars and motorbikes is interesting as well because they cram as much cargo and as many people on board as they physically can. The only thing that is not so fun about these long road trips is having to make a pit stop. No matter how hard you try, jostling over the potholes and washboards makes it impossible to just hold it. So, we pulled over by the side of the road and a few of the men went about their business and I proceeded to make my way down a tiny little path I found through the tall grass into the jungle. I was pretty freaked about the possibility of a Bush Viper biting me in the ass as I…ahem…”checked the tire” as my coworkers laughingly put it. But you’re not a real African explorer until you’ve peed in the jungle, in the grasslands, in the desert and in a cockroach and fly infested squat latrine…done, done, done and done. You may now call me Dora. (How sad is it that the only female explorer's name that calls to mind right now is Dora the Exlporer?  And it’s not like she ever has to go to the bathroom when she’s hiking through the Spooky Forest. You never hear her call for backpack, map AND latrine. But she should. It would make the show much more authentic. LOL. What the hell am I even talking about?)

(Sorry about the large HF radio antenna in the shots above. Funny thing is, the vehicle doesn’t even have an HF radio in it…don’t ask me. I have long since learned that in Africa there is no sense in trying to make sense out of things that just don’t make sense.)

Despite how awesome Landcruisers are, they are not impervious to flat tires and you have to change their filters and stuff to keep them purring smoothly. Our fuel filter was way passed its useful life so we wound up stopping at a little mechanics hut on the outskirts of a tiny town called Konia so they could try and wash it out again, or something to that effect. My Canadian colleague, Darius, and I walked up the hill into the town center to get some tea and find something to eat. Friday is market day there so the town was bustling. We found a little tea shop that had some bread and coffee and tea and sat and watched all the market action while we waited for the car. When the vehicle finally pulled up to collect us, we noticed we had a flat tire, so we waited some more while they changed it (that was the first flat tire of two we had that day). All in all it was a pretty fun day at work, if a little exhausting. We left the compound at 6:30am and got back at 7pm, just before dark.

Changing the tire in Konia town center

The tea shop where we got some drinks and ate some bread

Part of the Konia market

How adorable are these little girls?!

Selling some chickens. It makes me sad to see little kids in the market selling stuff instead of being in school.

I had to take a picture with this awesome, old, broken down Mitsubishi minibus. I want to buy it and live out hippie dreams of caravanning around the world.

This is a typical Liberian gas station...those bottles of red liquid. 

Loading, or I should say OVERloading, a truck in Zorzor town

Trying to get where you are going is important...never mind that you might not make it there alive

Just one of the many houses we passed along the way

Common Sense Tips You Already Know About Keeping Fit on the Road

Today was the 5^th day this week that I went for a run in Voinjama, from my compound to the police checkpoint at the entrance of town. It’s about 3.5 or 4 kilometers and is a pretty nice route: down a steep hill into a little valley with a flat bit, past the Jordanian police and PakBat compounds, across a little bridge and up a longer, shallower incline to the checkpoint. As I was coming back up the steep hill towards my compound, two little girls, carrying long bamboo poles in each hand, started running behind me. As we passed other kids, they would join and run along for a few meters before continuing their journey back down the hill. I felt like the Pied Piper going through town with my little followers. At one point I stopped and asked one of the girls if I could hold her bamboo. I grabbed it and was impressed with how heavy it was. I lifted it up and down like a free weight and said “it’s like lifting weights, you girls are strong.” Then the girl seemed a bit nervous that I was taking her pole and said “hey sista, dat one fo me, o” so I gave it back. Every once in a while I’d look back and see the girls lifting their poles up and down and laughing. It was a fun moment.

I have somehow picked up the nickname Klubo from my Liberian coworkers. Various people have told me it means: big woman, first born girl, warrior woman and dancing woman...so I guess it must mean a little of all those things which is cool by me. Everyone who hears it laughs and thinks it’s a good, strong name to have. I’ve also been described as a “real” Lofa woman a few times…they are known for being larger ladies. It’s a compliment here so I don’t mind. They like meaty women in most places I’ve been to in Africa. But this is likely going to be my last few months in the field for a while and I don’t want to be a real Lofa woman in Colorado. I’ll be coming back in August and living in the mountains in probably the best month of the year to enjoy all the glorious outdoor activities that Summit County has to offer. I want to be able to keep up with my brother and his extremely active family (my 6 year old nephew is doing a triathlon in two months!).  I’ve always felt like I have an inner athlete inside of me. I love hiking and kayaking and mountain biking. I love being outdoors and being active. But, sadly, I’m usually the last one to the summit…by god I will always make it to the top though…but it’s more fun when you don’t feel like you’re holding up the group or going to die in the process.

I try to work out as much as I can when I'm in the field. Sometimes it's a really sedentary life…most days consist of sitting in a vehicle for 5 hours or walking the 30 or 40 feet from my house to my office. Plus, there isn’t much to do out here in the sticks. I will also admit I’d love to be able to look hot in a dress from the Title Nine catalog (check it out…awesomest clothes ever…http://www.titlenine.com) And, there are no Chipotles or Peanut M&M’s to throw me off my game. The one tempting thing is Soda. It is my lifelong enemy and worst vice and Coke and Pepsi are the most ubiquitous products in the world. I have never been to a field site that did not have one or other of them available…even the most far off seeming village in South Sudan. But, I usually manage to give it up when I’m in the field and it’s typically when I come back to the US that I fall off the wagon. It’s been a week so far this time so yeah for me.  

So, in honor of the little girls who ran with me today, I’m offering some tips below on working out while traveling. You may be asking yourself “with the intro above, why would I listen to a Lofa sized woman’s advice on working out”…well, I’m not trying to tell you how to win a marathon or anything. Just how to get fit, stay fit and/or avoid gaining 10lbs from all the junk you know you’re going to eat while you’re on vacation.  So, introducing…The Weary Traveller’s Common Sense Tips You Already Know About Keeping Fit on the Road:

1) Walk as much as possible.

Many of the places I go for work are not the safest places in the world and often it is against our security policy to walk around. Which means, when I can walk, I want to walk. After spending two months in Haiti where I never walked anywhere, I went to New York City for a week and then London for a week and probably walked like 15 miles every day. Some cities were made for walking and you are missing out if you take taxis or the subway all the time. Sure you’ll do those things occasionally…I mean riding in a black cab in London is part of the experience. But if you take the Tube between Covent Garden, Leicester Square and Piccadilly Circus, then you are a tool…offense intended. Walking is the best way to get the feel of a city. You can people watch and window shop and generally just smell the roses (unless you’re in Paris and then it’s probably the dog poo since no one cleans up after their dogs, lol). Walking your way around a city is great exercise without even trying, it’s the best way to see the sights and it’s free transportation. Just make sure if you’re in an unfamiliar place that you ask the concierge at your hotel if there are any areas that aren’t safe and you should avoid walking in.

Also, if you are staying on the lower floors of a hotel, then take the stairs. It’s a good way to scope out the emergency exits in the event of an emergency (which I bet you have never done in a hotel but you should) and you’ll avoid being stuffed in an elevator with 50 other people and their luggage, especially during the morning check-out rush.

2) Use the gym or bring one with you.

Any hotel worth their salt these days has a fitness center. It’s a free amenity and you should take advantage of it, especially if you don’t have access to a gym at home. Why pass up a free chance to lift some weights or use a medicine ball? Plus, sometimes the gyms are in great locations. The fitness center at the Westin Resort in Maui overlooks parts of the pool and ocean. I don’t know about you, but the sight of tanned muscled dudes and hot bodied surfer chicks mixed with fat, pasty-white tourists motivates me to keep going and run that little bit harder…oh and the palm trees and sunshine and ocean views are nice to look at too, lol. If you’re just not a fan of going to the gym or working out in front of others, then consider bringing some workout gear with you for your hotel room. I always travel to the field with a resistance band and travel yoga mat. You can also use water bottles filled with water for weights (though I personally don’t like to do this because I find it hard to grip them once I start to sweat). You can buy and download workout videos from Exercise TV online. They also have some free videos you can stream if you’ll have good internet connection where you’re going (which I never seem to do, so I buy them).

3)  Go for a run.

Running, like walking, is also a great way to get out and about at your destination. If you’re at the ocean, go for a run along the beach. If you’re in London, go for a run along the Thames. If you’re in Seattle, go for a run at Alki Beach Park. There is always going to be a cool trail, park or neighborhood to go for a run in.

When running in an unfamiliar place, make sure you do so safely. When possible, tell someone where you’re going. I always tell the guards at my compound or a housemate what my route is going to be and that if I’m not back in an hour to come find me. I also run with my cell phone in case something happens I can call for help. You never know when you might fall and twist your ankle or get kidnapped by some rebels in the jungle…just kidding mom and dad…(but seriously J). Also, it’s great to have music, but don’t use both earbuds and crank it up full volume…only use one earbud so you can hear if a person or car or bike is coming up behind you. And make sure to pay attention to the weather. In South Sudan my colleague and I would go running at dusk when it was a bit cooler. You don’t want to run at noon when it’s 115 degrees. And you don’t want to be caught out on the beach in a huge electrical storm either.

So, there you have it. All things you probably already knew but now you are reminded of.

The Twilight Zone

I tend to be behind the times when it comes to music. I’d like to say that is the result of me being off in the bush in Africa most of time, but really it’s true even when I’m at home. Typically I’ll come back to the US on R&R and hear a few new tunes on the radio that I like which inevitably make it onto the workout playlist on my iPod. This past April that song was “Somebody I Used to Know” by Gotye. I love it and it makes me burst into song, especially when I'm out running, as my nephew can attest to since I ran a 5k race with him a couple weeks ago and purposely started singing it just to embarrass him.

Anyway, in April my best friend and I went to Seattle with her 4 year old daughter to attend her little brother’s wedding. We spent a good few hours in the car each day, driving around the city, out to Snoqualmie falls and back and forth between downtown and the wedding venue in Tacoma. While listening to Seattle radio, I swear we heard that song play a million times…Each station seemed to play it multiple times each hour. One time the station went to commercial or some such and I said something to the effect of “let’s see if our song is on” and I hit the button and low and behold it was playing. Now, when I hear that song, I always think of my friend and the amazing trip we had. When I was laying over in Brussels on my way to Liberia, the video came on in the café I was walking past in the airport and I felt compelled to stop and watch it and I immediately Facebooked my friend about it. 

So, what does this have to do with anything you ask? Well, as I mentioned in my last post, we go to the UN Pakistani Battalion every night for dinner. We usually show up around 20 past 8, go straight to the buffet line, get our food and try to be out by 8:45, before the Battalion Commander and the rest of the Officers show up to eat. Once they arrive, it is polite to remain until they are done, which can drag dinner out until 9:30 or later.

Tonight we show up around 8:30 and find that they are preparing for an outdoor banquet as they are hosting the commander from the Pakistani Battalion in another County. There are tables outside and some barbecues and a big buffet table and a  movie screen set up at the side (we later find out they intend to show a movie after dinner). We aren’t quite sure what to do because this is obviously a more formal affair and it’s not clear if we can join in the dinner or not. Thankfully my colleague is Pakistani and he finds out we are able to join them.

We wait around and more and more officers come into the courtyard, and then the Commanders show up. As we are all shaking hands and being introduced to the Commanders, they start to play music. And…guess what they play…that’s right “Somebody I Used to Know” by Gotye. But, they don’t just play it…they project the words up on the big movie screen and hit repeat. It played while we stood around and chatted, it played while we took our seats for the first course and it played while we ate the soup. After it played maybe 15 times in a row, the Commander whispered to someone and they changed the music to some traditional Pakistani folk music which then morphed into some English language, but clearly foreign, techno dance music.

Maybe this is my own stereotypes coming into play, or maybe I am just not plugged into the fact that this is obviously a seriously popular song internationally, but I have to say that I felt like I was in the Twilight Zone when I was standing in rural Liberia, in the courtyard of a UN military compound, the only female surrounded by Pakistani military officers, many in their traditional Pakistani clothing, listening to Gotye on repeat, thinking of my best friend and wishing more than anything that I had an iPhone in my pocket so I could capture it all on video.

Here is a link to the song on YouTube in case there exist any people out there in the world who have not heard this song yet. Clearly you are not as hip on popular music as the Lofa County PakBatt.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8UVNT4wvIGY

Living in Voinjama

I know I said I would write often, but the past week has been a bit hectic. Sorry for the long delay. I am now firmly settled in Voinjama in Lofa County, up near the border of Guinea. Below is a map showing the location. And by firmly settled I just mean that I have managed to unpack some clothes and get a quick feel for the place…that’s pretty much my definition for settled these days.

Voinjama is a pretty big town in terms of rural communities. There is more than one main road in the town center and there are a couple of nightclubs and a few shops where you can buy some foodstuffs…so by my standards, that’s pretty big. Wikipedia says the population as of 2008 was a little more than 28,000. I guess I can believe that if you take into account people living in some of the outlying areas.

I live in a house inside our office compound. There are two other expat staff who have houses here too, a doctor from Pakistan and a Public Health Administrator from Bhutan. The house I’m in is for visitors and this past weekend a Canadian colleague, who was actually born and partially raised in Poland, came to stay for a week. One of the amazing things about my job is that I get to meet people from all over the world. I often get to learn as much about their cultures as I do about the ones I’m living in. One of the best times I've had in the field was having dinner in Lubumbashi, Democratic Republic of Congo with 18 people from all over the world including the USA, Canada, Belgium, France, Denmark, The Netherlands, Lithuania, Serbia, DRC, Uganda, Tanzania, Guinea, Cote D’Ivoire, and Jamaica.

Aside from the nearby Pakistani UN Battalion (PakBat) and the Jordanian UN Police Unit, there aren’t many other foreigners in town. I’ve heard there are a couple of other NGOs with some expats and I’ve heard there are two Peace Corps teachers, but so far I haven’t seen anyone.  Thank god PakBat is here though. They open up their Officer’s Mess to the public, so, for $3 a meal< I can have lunch and/or dinner. The food is amazing. I’ve really only had Indian food before, and Pakistani food is similar but there are definitely subtle differences. I’m not a huge dessert person, in the US I would rarely order dessert at a restaurant, but it comes standard with the PakBat dinner and they are so good. So far my favorites are this rice pudding-like concoction that has milk, rice (I guess), sugar (or maybe honey) and some spices, cardamom I think. There is also this concoction made of carrots that basically tastes the same as the rice pudding but has a little bit different consistency. I need to find out their names so I can Google the recipes. I bet the carrot dish would be a great way to get kids to eat carrots. The dish isn’t too sweet, but just enough to make it appealing. Not that I have kids, I guess I’m just thinking of my little 2 year old niece who basically will only eat rice. Actually, she would fit right in here. Rice is definitely a staple of every meal whether eating at PakBat or a local restaurant...and by restaurant I typically mean a stand on the side of the road with a woman, a bowl of rice and some "soup" cooking over a charcoal stove...the soup could actually be fried okra sauce or ground nut sauce or the dreaded water soup. I’ve eaten a few local meals so far which were okay. The main problem for me is that they are so spicy I can’t take it. I just don’t understand eating spicy hot food. If it hurts to eat, why eat it?

On Sunday evening, my Canadian colleague and I went into town to grab some Clubs, the local Liberian beer. The two “bars” we went to weren’t open so we found ourselves sitting in a tiny little alcohol shop with some locals. It was really fun and not something I often get to do since I’m usually by myself and don’t often venture into local establishments alone.  Anyway, hanging out with some good company, in a local place, having a couple beers at the magic sunset hour was amazing. Every assignment I’ve had there has been at least one moment where I have felt like “Yes, this is it. This is what life is about. Right now I am exactly where I am supposed to be, doing exactly what I am supposed to be doing, feeling perfectly contented.”  That’s how I felt flying in the helicopter last week and that’s how I felt again sitting in the local watering hole.

Let’s see, what else can I tell you now…there are some goats that live in our compound. One was given to our doctor by the local community and she had some babies so now there are 4. They are all black except for one guy who has some white spots and a white tuft of hair on his head. Naturally I immediately thought of Stripe from Gremlins (that's natural, right?)…so I have officially named them…Mogwai, Billy, Gizmo and Stripe. I like having the goats around. They are cute to look at and do a good job of eating all the mangoes that fall off our mango trees…and not just fall off but slam against the tin roof of the buildings making a huge racket and startling the bejeebus out of me every single time. The only bad thing about the goats is having to dodge their goat pellets which seem to be littered over every single walking surface. Yet another reason why one must always, always wear flip flops inside the house. Who knows what your shoes really track in.

My goat friends - Stripe in the middle, surrounded by Mogwai on the right, Billy on the left and little Gizmo in the back

There’s no running water in the house right now. Apparently the water table drops so low in the dry season that there is not enough water in the well for the water pump to work effectively. The water table is starting to rise now that it’s the start of the rainy season, but the running water probably won’t be back up until August. I don’t mind not having running water. The only thing I wish was running was the toilet, but it’s manageable by pouring a basin of water into the bowl to “flush” it out. Taking a shower from a bucket is no big deal. In fact, I’ve always kinda liked it. The only downside is that the water is freezing cold but I’m too impatient to wait for water to heat up on the stove (I’d rather sleep 15 more minutes). So, I fill the cup with water from the bucket, hold my breath and let it pour…any delay and you start to psyche yourself out. I can easily take a shower and feel totally clean and refreshed with less than half a bucket of water. I always feel guilty when I come home and have to wait for ages with the water running while it heats up and then the nice water sort of lulls you into taking a much longer shower than is really necessary. I think when I move back home I will start collecting the running water while the temperature heats up and using that water to make tea or wash dishes or water plants. Why let it go to waste? If there is anything I have learned from the past few years, it is that water is a precious commodity and we in the West take it for granted. When you have to pump it out of a well, carry it one bucket at a time into the house, boil and filter it to drink and boil it to make it warm, you appreciate the fact that in the US all you have to do is turn a knob and you have all the water you want, ready to drink and at whatever temperature you desire. That is the luxury of all luxuries.

Well, lunch is over now so I better return to work. Since I ended with water, I’ll leave you with a couple of water related links:

Here’s an awesome website with 100 ways to conserve water:

http://www.wateruseitwisely.com/100-ways-to-conserve/index.php

The SteriPEN is a cool product that uses UV light to kill waterborne microbes and sterilize drinking water…me wants one!
www.steripen.com

Not your average commute to work

Today. Has. Been. Awesome. I left my house this morning at 6:30am, bummed that I would have to sit at the airport for 3 hours waiting for the UN flight to Voinjama. Then, around 9:30, they started handing out earplugs to the passengers waiting in the holding area. I was told that sometimes the flight between Monrovia and Voinjama is a Dash-7 plane and sometimes it’s a helicopter. Since we were leaving from the international airport, my colleague (our Liberian Field Coordinator) and I were resigned to taking the plane. But when I got the earplugs I knew…it was chopper time!

When I was working in Uganda in 2010 I was overseeing Mi-8 flight hours for the Ugandan military flying from a base in South Sudan to the Central African Republic and the Democratic Republic of Congo as part of their mission against the LRA rebels. I was also overseeing C-130 cargo flights from Kampala to Mogadishu for the African Union Mission in Somalia. I got to spend some time in the presence of these cool aircraft but I never got to actually fly in them and I have always wanted to. So when the chopper came in sight of the minibus that was taking me and the 15 other passengers to the flight, I got super excited. I wanted to bounce up and down on my seat and squeal and clap my hands like a little schoolgirl, but I refrained. Since all of the other passengers were male, mostly African, Yemeni, Jordanian and Pakistani, and most were in UN military or police uniforms, I figured they wouldn’t appreciate my naïve excitement. Also, they all seemed to be a bit bummed because the plane is faster and more comfortable than the chopper.

My excitement only grew as I walked up the three little steps into the cabin. There were two benches running down each side of the chopper and our luggage and cargo was strapped down the middle. We all boarded and took a seat on one of the benches. One of the crew asked the guy next to me to move down further, but there was a bag hanging from a hook in the wall that was blocking the seat. “Sir, you can take down that parachute and put it on the floor at the end of the bench next to you” said the crewman with his Ukrainian accent. “So this one’s for me I guess” the man said with a cheeky grin to those of us sitting next to him. There was another parachute hanging across the aisle and I made a mental note that that one was gonna be mine, lol.

Inside the cabin

The Ukrainian crewman gave us a safety briefing. “Thank you for flying with us today. Please buckle your seatbelt. There are three exits…here, here and one in the back compartment behind that green curtain. The windows open like this” (open) “ and close like this” (close) “Please wait until we park in Voinjama to stand up. Using your earplugs will make you more comfortable”. Do I totally have a crush on the blond haired, blue eyed, tanned and muscley Ukrainian crewman in his combat fatigues with his chopper headphones on? Ohhh da! (actually, yes in Ukrainian is apparently tak, but that joke is much better in Russian J). Eventually they started the engines and the seat started vibrating and the rotors starting whirring causing a mini strobe-light shadow effect in the cabin. We briefly lifted off the ground and hovered for a few seconds and then set back down and started driving down the runway. Next thing I knew, we were in the air. We flew the 1 hour journey at about 2,000 ft. It definitely was not a comfortable ride. My back was up against the wall and half of a window, so I mostly leaned forward and rested my elbows on my knees and my teeth chattered from the vibration the whole time. Some of the guys managed to sleep which I thought was impressive despite the guy next to me occasionally nodding over into me.

View out the window I was leaning against

Watching the lush jungle passing below out the window, the parachute hanging from the wall and all the cargo strapped down with cargo nets…I definitely felt like I was in a movie…maybe some Nam film and this was my platoon and we were heading for the drop point. I had a few seconds of envisioning myself going through basic training. Then we started landing and I snapped out of lala land. I am definitely Tropic Thunder not Semper Fi. 

Days like this remind me why I love my job. Who needs rush hour traffic and a tiny cubicle with florescent lighting when you can be in a helicopter flying out into the African bush?

The Voinjama airfield

Nom nom nom

It’s official. I have an eating disorder. No matter where I am in the world, whether a street cart in Thailand or a 5-star restaurant in New York City...I drop food in my lap or down the front of my shirt. I am like a 2 year old child learning to eat with a fork apparently. It drives me bonkers. I need to start packing a bib or some overalls in my suitcase. The super annoying thing is that doing laundry in the field can often be a pain. Sometimes my schedule is such that if I’m moving around a lot and if I don’t time it just right, I can miss the window of opportunity to do laundry and find myself without clean clothes for a few days. Most things can usually be worn again but not when there is a big blob of grease or dried spinach down the front. Today a piece of lettuce covered in sauce fell from my sandwich and cascaded down the front of my shirt before elegantly plopping in my lap. Lovely.

Last year at this time I was also in Liberia. I spent two months out in the countryside near the Cote D’Ivoire border and I remember pretty clearly what the local shops had to offer…biscuits, spaghetti, canned tomatoes, canned beans and, weirdly, lots of jars of mayonnaise. Typically all the shops have the same random things that come off the same supply trucks. When we stay in shared housing at field sites, my organization usually provides a cook, though we all chip in for the food. Normally for breakfast you get some sort of omelet and/or bread or these pretty awesome crepe-like things. Then for lunch you get rice and beans, cassava or potato greens and sometimes fish or chicken. There is also typically plenty of fresh (and amazing) pineapple and avocado. For dinner you usually have left over lunch. I remember last year I really enjoyed the food the cook made. I never really felt deprived of anything and I like to use field assignments as an opportunity to try and drop a few pounds (or 10 or 15). The only problem was the weekend. That’s when we had to fend for ourselves which meant that I ate spaghetti or rice with tomatoes and kidney beans every single weekend for every single meal. Once we found some nice eggplant at the Saturday market and threw those into the mix. There is generally nowhere to eat out in the villages either. I tried it twice last year and both times wound up with water soup, which was rancid bush meat in pond scum. Okay, okay, that is probably not the actual ingredient list…I’m sure there was some salt and oil in there too.

Last year in Liberia the cook put Maggie cubes (crawfish bullion) in just about every single dish. I could tell I was eating a lot of salt so my first R&R I bought some low-sodium, all natural, organic, vegan, gluten-free, cholesterol-free, MSG-free, nut-free, what-ever else free Whole Foods vegetable cubes. I carried about 30 of those suckers around with me for like 6 months and to like 5 different countries. But not once did I find myself in a situation where I had a cook that was using stock cubes. After awhile they started getting kinda gross and once I even had ants in my bag so I wound up leaving them behind in Haiti. This time around I brought a couple bags of freeze dried fruit and a couple bags of granola.

Since I’m heading to the field early tomorrow morning for a couple months, I just made a trip to the supermarket with the hope of buying some items to break up the weekend monotony. I have a rather strong aversion to the prepackaged, Frankenstein, soy/corn science experiments that we Americans like to call food. The problem is that I also don’t have much imagination in the kitchen. This means that I really dislike going to the grocery store. I’m not exaggerating when I say that I had a minor panic attack the first time I went into a grocery store in the US on my last leave in April. I wandered around, almost in tears, totally overwhelmed by the variety of choices while knowing at the same time that everything was really just made of the same 2 ingredients anyway. So, let’s just say that grocery shopping in developing countries is also not one of my favorite activities. In some places, like Lubumbashi in the Democratic Republic of Congo, the supermarket shelves are pretty bare. In Haiti they are just like American supermarkets but with a bit more stuff from South America. In Liberia the supermarkets have tons of American products at 3 times the American prices. What I wound up getting today is pretty ridiculous. Here is what I managed to buy for $41 USD.

Box of Earl Grey tea

Box of green tea

Tin of pistachio nuts

Box of apple & cinnamon instant oatmeal

Small tub of dried banana chips

Container of Mott’s applesauce

3 Velveeta cheese and broccoli cup-a-soup-like Frankenstein, everything I hate about processed foods mac n’ cheese pots (but damnit I'm sure they taste good)

2 cans of sauerkraut

    

Don’t even ask me what the sauerkraut is about. I haven’t got a clue. My hands just reached up and grabbed them all by themselves. After that I gave up and decided that I’ll just go hungry on the weekends. And at least I know if worse comes to worse I won’t starve…I can always eat off my laundry :) ewww :(

Life out of a suitcase

I think the Weary Traveller is a bit of a misnomer. It makes it seem like I am tired of traveling and want to come home, which is not really the case. I think I’m going to have to rename this blog the Unweary Traveller. But there is one thing that I am weary of: packing…and unpacking…and repacking, then unpacking again, then repacking once more, and so on and so forth, ad infinitum. I’m at the point of losing my mind over it.

I have to pat myself on the back and say that I have the art of packing down to a science. I’m able to pack everything I need (and a few things I don’t) into my rather small luggage (see the pic below), all under the airline weight limits. I can handle all of my bags at the same time and rarely use an airport cart. Who needs a cart? Carts are for sissies. I am an expert maneuverer of rolling luggage and can deftly switch pulling hands mid-stride with a quick and fancy body twirl. But right now I feel like picking up my rolling duffle and emptying the contents over the side of my first floor balcony.

I am longing for the opportunity to actually put my stuff away. Oh the joy of a cupboard where I can hang up my perpetually wrinkled clothes or a shelf where I can set out my toiletries. Oh the torture of constantly leaking bottles and having to pull out everything I own just to get to that one thing that rests at the bottom of my suitcase. It is my life’s mission to find a tube that does not leak. I have tried them all and I think I am just going to have to invent my own.

I haven’t unpacked at the apartment I’m in because I’m leaving soon. The problem I’m facing now is that I have probably 40kgs worth of stuff that I have to sort through and reduce to 15kg. See, early Tuesday morning I am flying to my first field site, a town in the far north of the country near the Guinea border called Voinjama. The UN flight limit for luggage is 15kgs. We have a vehicle convoy that will be driving out to Voinjama on Friday, so the rest of my luggage will come then. So, what’s the problem you ask? Just pack what you will need from Tuesday night through Friday afternoon and you’re all set, right? Oh, I wish it were that easy. I’m going to a pretty remote location. I’ve been told to stock up on food because there is nothing really to be found in the town for the weekend when I’ll have to fend for myself (at least nothing that my sad Westerner self will be able to identify and cook). If there is no food to be found, there is probably little else that I might need. And what if my bag goes missing while en route by road? What if there is a vehicle accident or hijacking or theft? What if they forget to put the bag in the vehicle and I have to wait another week to get it? I seriously shudder to think what I would do if my bag is lost. It is essentially everything I have in the world that I actually need. Sure I have a small storage unit in DC with a few yearbooks and some artwork and the like, but that’s not as necessary to my survival as my supply of contact lenses or my shoes.

After an hour of fretting and weighing and reweighing my stuff (travel luggage scale, never leave home without it) I think I have finally gotten it sorted out. So, below are the contents of my red carry-on bag and backpack…things I’ll need for a few days and some things I’ll wish I had if my suitcase never makes it to me.

4 polo shirts

1 t-shirt

4 cargo capris

1 pair of yoga capris

1 pair of sneakers

1 pair of flip flops

5 pairs of knickers

3 bras

Towel

1 toiletry kit with tiny (like 1.5oz) travel size shampoo, facewash, lotion, body wash, and curly hair gel

Razor

Toothbrush

Full sized toothpaste

Full sized contact lens solution

Contacts case and a handful of extra contact lenses

Various barrettes and hair ties

Face powder and eyeliner

Small travel mirror

Travel size bug spray

Travel size bug bite anti-itch spray

Travel size sunscreen

Sunglasses

Eyeglasses

Emergency first-aid and survival kit

Leatherman tool

Headlamp flashlight

Winding flashlight (no batteries needed)

BPA-free water bottle

Laptop computer, charger and plug adapter

Nook e-reader and charger

Cell phone and charger

iPod and charger

Notebook and pens

External hard drive

"In the end, all a man ever really owns is his story"

People often tell me they wish they could travel more. I usually think “so do it” but I understand that I have no children or responsibilities…heck, I don’t even have furniture or a place to live. Traveling for me is pretty easy…when you have no home, you are always traveling. But I think everyone should make traveling a priority. There are two main benefits to traveling. First, you get to step out of your normal routines. You don’t have to worry about commuting to work or doing laundry or going to the grocery store to pick up the eggs you forgot to buy the day before. I’m not saying there are no hassles to traveling…god knows that waiting in line at airport security or standing on the curb for an hour waiting for the rental car shuttle bus can be annoying steps in the process of getting where you’re going. But those little hassles are worth it and make up part of the overall experience.   I think too much routine is bad for the soul. Not everyone needs to live like I do, totally routine-less. Often (especially last month on vacation), I wake up in the morning in one place and then go to sleep that night in a different place. But it’s good to step out of your routines for a little bit. It gives you a break from the mundane and helps you to evaluate what is really important in your life. It gives you some time to unwind and de-stress and not worry about errands or chores or work.

The second benefit to traveling is experiencing new and unfamiliar things. The title of this post is one of my favorite quotes of all time (said by the Drover in the movie Australia). I think traveling injects some of the most interesting chapters into our stories. I’m mean, let’s face it, our day-to-day chapters are kinda the boring parts…wake up, go to work, go to the gym (ha!), go home, cook dinner, watch tv, go to bed, rinse, repeat.  No one besides your husband or wife is really interested in those parts (and even then they are faking it half the time). But I think the book of our lives gets interesting in the chapters about that crazy road trip to the Grand Canyon or that amazing sunset you watched from the beach in Jamaica or that time you got pick-pocketed on the train in Rome. Even the time your flight was cancelled and you spent 8 hours in the airport and your luggage was lost and you had to walk a mile in the rain to get to a hotel…it may have sucked at the time but I bet you look back on it with a chuckle and it makes for an interesting story to tell.

Having new and unfamiliar experiences keeps us sharp, keeps us learning. It stimulates our curiosity and keeps that fire of exploration alive. It injects a bit of adventure. It helps us to see how other people live and to reflect on how we live our own lives. For me, the best trips are those that take me outside my comfort zone…you learn what you’re made of, what you’re capable of dealing with and what is really important to you. I consider myself to be a very confident person, perhaps to a fault (I definitely think I am totally rad J).  That confidence grew from my travels. I’m pretty certain that I can handle most anything life throws at me…not just while on the road but in day-to-day life as well. As a result, I don’t really worry about things. I’ve learned there is no point in worrying about what you can’t control and, if it is within my control, well, then, I know I can work it out or deal with it. Anyway, enough about how awesome and capable I am, lol. I seem to have gotten myself on a tangent. This post was originally going to be about cool places to find travel contests and sweepstakes. Guess I’ll save that for another time.

I’ll just conclude by saying that I think you should take a trip. Make traveling a priority. It doesn’t have to be expensive or take all your vacation hours at work, if that’s what you’re worried about (but keep in mind you should definitely use all those vacation days…that’s what they’re there for!). You can do something little to break your routine and experience something new...even if it’s just packing a picnic and driving two hours to the nearest waterfall or Indian dwellings or whatnot. Find your inner explorer, put down that vacuum and hit the road.

If you need some inspiration, check out Intrepid Travel (www.intrepidtravel.com). I have never taken any of their tours, but I adore their website and search through it often. They have some amazing trips at affordable prices and whenever I go to their site I dream of running off to cycle around Asia or go sailing in New Zealand or learn to tango in Buenos Aires.

Happy trails!