My research is going extremely well. I realized that I have completed about half of my interviews and am fairly content with the amount of observation that I have done. Of course, I will continue to get into the schools until I leave because I seem to learn something new every visit. Last week, I learned how to make glue with dried cassava and water. A teacher heated it up over a fire and then used the paste to hang up learning materials in her classroom. Tape is not often a possibility in the villages and even when there is tape, the humidity causes posters and charts to fall down. She also showed me how to make traditional skirts out of old rice bags and string out of palm leaves. What a wealth of information just from one visit!
My taxi rides out to the various villages continue to be some of the richest experiences I have had in the country thanks to all of the wonderful passengers and drivers. I have made connections with several NGOs, met friends of friends and also met a Human Rights Journalist/Poet. I am going to ask for his permission to post some of his work. Very moving.
The tales from the taxi certainly continue. Last week, I was surprised to see a live chicken occupying the passenger seat but the ride got even more interesting. Instead of the driver putting passengers on a cada (motorbike) to avoid getting blackmailed any further from the police, he actually passed his keys over to a passenger and hid in the trunk. Bit scary due to the heat but he did avoid the extra bribes and got away with the one standard payment. The corruption has become such a norm for taxi drivers but boy does it get a heated discussion going – the passengers and drivers are not happy to say the least. People will discuss police corruption for the duration of the ride, even if the ride takes hours. It is the reason why taxis overload their vehicles, such a vicious cycle.
I was sad to say goodbye to my friend Maribeth from Thunderbay who was in Sierra Leone for three weeks. We had a great time. We were invited into a traditional local court called a barrie where local problems are brought to a chairperson, had great welcomes into schools, spent a day at a beautiful beach and sat on the porch learning about life in Salone.
Well, going to get back to my research – one month to go!
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Tuition Paid Up
For those of you involved in supporting the education of Rosemarie, Isata and Francis...I have just paid all of their tuition for the term. I will pay for their final semester before I leave! They will soon be graduating and I have some new candidates in mind if we are able to continue our support. I had the chance to observe Rosemarie practice teach in a grade one class with one hundred students. It certainly confirmed what a remarkable teacher she is and how important our fundraising project has been. I have had the chance to visit with Rosemarie several times this trip which has been wonderful. I will be visiting Isata and Francis in December. Look forward to the road trip! I have been trying to upload some photos but the computer is toooooo slllloooowwwww! I'll try again another time.
Some Serious Hustle and Bustle
I came back to Freetown to get a few errands done only to find out that one of my errand days was a public holiday for Eid! So, that being the case, I braved the streets of the city yesterday cramming in as much as I could. I wish it was realistic to videotape the hustle and bustle of the city streets but a camera would just get knocked out of my hands and I wouldn’t be able to walk properly. To get downtown, I have to take a taxi to a junction, get out and then find another taxi to a closer stop near the central part of town. It is extremely difficult to find taxis from this end of town due to the congestion and locals tell me the only way to do it is to leave very early….well, I was too late at 10am that’s for sure! Noon until evening is rush hour! And beyond any rush hour I have ever experienced anywhere!
I usually have someone come with me but am feeling more confident about getting around the city and decided it would be easier to head out on my own schedule. I was pleased with myself that I made it to the Eastern Police point without any big hassles. This is where you get out and walk…no more space for cars! The street is jam packed with sellers who barely have enough room to set out their bowl of goods or set up a small table. The air is extremely polluted and it can be quite difficult to breathe at times. The sounds of the downtown market space include sellers shouting out what is for sale and the prices at top volume. The blaring horns fill the background and brave cart pushers use a whistle to push their load through the crowd. I watch the locals weave through the crowds ducking under baskets, jumping over potholes and dodging the odd vehicle that somehow miraculously makes it’s way through the chaos. They manage to do this so gracefully. Unlike the locals, I awkwardly try to strain my way through the masses with the odd wheelbarrow hitting me from behind . It is truly overwhelming but once you are in the middle, there is just no way but straight through! The crowd reminds me of how I feel leaving concerts or sporting events at home except people are going about business and it doesn’t stop for kilometers. People are friendly, greeting me along the way, offering me their best price and even helping me with directions amongst the hissing, bumping and yelling. What made yesterday even more interesting were all the goats on leads. Those preparing for Eid were taking home the goats they purchased ready for a big celebration.
I certainly was thrilled to get back to my end of town last night to find my thesis supervisor and some other friends at the Relaxation station. We enjoyed a couple of Star beers and all sang along to a Bob Marley tribute playing on the television. Thank God for the Relaxation Station!
I usually have someone come with me but am feeling more confident about getting around the city and decided it would be easier to head out on my own schedule. I was pleased with myself that I made it to the Eastern Police point without any big hassles. This is where you get out and walk…no more space for cars! The street is jam packed with sellers who barely have enough room to set out their bowl of goods or set up a small table. The air is extremely polluted and it can be quite difficult to breathe at times. The sounds of the downtown market space include sellers shouting out what is for sale and the prices at top volume. The blaring horns fill the background and brave cart pushers use a whistle to push their load through the crowd. I watch the locals weave through the crowds ducking under baskets, jumping over potholes and dodging the odd vehicle that somehow miraculously makes it’s way through the chaos. They manage to do this so gracefully. Unlike the locals, I awkwardly try to strain my way through the masses with the odd wheelbarrow hitting me from behind . It is truly overwhelming but once you are in the middle, there is just no way but straight through! The crowd reminds me of how I feel leaving concerts or sporting events at home except people are going about business and it doesn’t stop for kilometers. People are friendly, greeting me along the way, offering me their best price and even helping me with directions amongst the hissing, bumping and yelling. What made yesterday even more interesting were all the goats on leads. Those preparing for Eid were taking home the goats they purchased ready for a big celebration.
I certainly was thrilled to get back to my end of town last night to find my thesis supervisor and some other friends at the Relaxation station. We enjoyed a couple of Star beers and all sang along to a Bob Marley tribute playing on the television. Thank God for the Relaxation Station!
Friday, November 5, 2010
Tales from the Taxis
I have fully experienced local taxi service now and…..wow, it has been unbelievable! There are line ups of taxis here going on specific routes to either areas within a city or to another city. I am still working out the details but seem to get to my main destinations with ease now. Well, it’s at least easier!
Up North, my first taxi day was quite an adventurous introduction. The man picking me up on the motorbike to get to the taxi line was running behind, so we started off late. I figured showing up an hour late to my research site was not out of the norm so didn’t worry at all. Once I arrived at the taxi line, it took over an hour to secure a taxi. Basically, the driver waits until the car is full and then adds a few extra passengers and off we go! Initially, the driver was trying to fill a station wagon which would have taken ages. I checked out the supermarket, had a drink, read a few chapters of my book and was still waiting. Luckily, he eventually traded the station wagon in for what would be considered a 5-seater car at home. Except here, the passenger seat holds two and the back seat holds four. I was so relieved when the driver started the car because I had big plans for my research that day! The seven of us set out for a rural community that is normally about half an hour away. Fifteen minutes outside the city boundaries, we stopped at the police point where our driver and the police officer got into an argument. The police officer ordered all of the passengers out of the car to sit beside a fruit stand and told the driver to take the taxi back to its starting point! She said she would find us another ride which I found hard to believe since it took me so long to find a taxi heading in my direction to begin with. We waited for awhile and then surprisingly a taxi stopped that was carrying four passengers already – a couple and their two children. The rest of us piled into the taxi for a cramped ride to the village! There were four of us sharing the front seat! I arrived fours late but on a good note was driven right to the school which saved having to organize another motorbike ride. Funnily enough, I was the only one concerned about time, no one else seemed to bat an eyelash! This is a good example of how “time” can be seen so differently.
I took taxis back and forth to this village for about five days and then a long taxi ride when I returned to the capital city. There are just too many stories to share and I am not sure if I can even come close to articulating the variety of responses and experiences I have had! My taxi rides have been uncomfortable and sweaty but extremely interesting. You just never know what will happen next. I have learned more of the local language while in the taxi, discussed the life of a late politician, met some very motivated college students and just enjoyed the view of lush tropical forest. We made a lot of stops on the way where my patience was tested to the max! The stops slow us down but always bring a unique surprise. For example, one of the first times my taxi stopped I thought we were needed for a road side emergency. Nope, we were stopped to transport bananas. A gigantic banana load, tree trunks and all! Another time, about thirty car batteries were stuffed into the trunk along with some steel, and then removed, repacked, removed, repacked, removed and finally repacked…while the driver and battery owner negotiated how much money should be paid to carry the batteries. Like the bananas, this weighed down the car significantly and added another hour to our journey! My mantra “Don’t fight it , just enjoy the ride….”
Up North, my first taxi day was quite an adventurous introduction. The man picking me up on the motorbike to get to the taxi line was running behind, so we started off late. I figured showing up an hour late to my research site was not out of the norm so didn’t worry at all. Once I arrived at the taxi line, it took over an hour to secure a taxi. Basically, the driver waits until the car is full and then adds a few extra passengers and off we go! Initially, the driver was trying to fill a station wagon which would have taken ages. I checked out the supermarket, had a drink, read a few chapters of my book and was still waiting. Luckily, he eventually traded the station wagon in for what would be considered a 5-seater car at home. Except here, the passenger seat holds two and the back seat holds four. I was so relieved when the driver started the car because I had big plans for my research that day! The seven of us set out for a rural community that is normally about half an hour away. Fifteen minutes outside the city boundaries, we stopped at the police point where our driver and the police officer got into an argument. The police officer ordered all of the passengers out of the car to sit beside a fruit stand and told the driver to take the taxi back to its starting point! She said she would find us another ride which I found hard to believe since it took me so long to find a taxi heading in my direction to begin with. We waited for awhile and then surprisingly a taxi stopped that was carrying four passengers already – a couple and their two children. The rest of us piled into the taxi for a cramped ride to the village! There were four of us sharing the front seat! I arrived fours late but on a good note was driven right to the school which saved having to organize another motorbike ride. Funnily enough, I was the only one concerned about time, no one else seemed to bat an eyelash! This is a good example of how “time” can be seen so differently.
I took taxis back and forth to this village for about five days and then a long taxi ride when I returned to the capital city. There are just too many stories to share and I am not sure if I can even come close to articulating the variety of responses and experiences I have had! My taxi rides have been uncomfortable and sweaty but extremely interesting. You just never know what will happen next. I have learned more of the local language while in the taxi, discussed the life of a late politician, met some very motivated college students and just enjoyed the view of lush tropical forest. We made a lot of stops on the way where my patience was tested to the max! The stops slow us down but always bring a unique surprise. For example, one of the first times my taxi stopped I thought we were needed for a road side emergency. Nope, we were stopped to transport bananas. A gigantic banana load, tree trunks and all! Another time, about thirty car batteries were stuffed into the trunk along with some steel, and then removed, repacked, removed, repacked, removed and finally repacked…while the driver and battery owner negotiated how much money should be paid to carry the batteries. Like the bananas, this weighed down the car significantly and added another hour to our journey! My mantra “Don’t fight it , just enjoy the ride….”
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Special Invitations
I have had the privilege to attend some unique cultural events this week - the first being a celebration of a Bishop’s 50th year of work in Sierra Leone. I was able to take photos and videos which I will attempt to post here. The Bishop is clearly well respected here and within the country as a whole. Many dignitaries including the President, Dr. Ernest Bai Koroma were in attendance. Mass was three hours long and not quite how I remember Catholic mass as a child. The prayers and hymns were sang in a variety of local languages and the congregation was happy to dance and sing throughout the service. There was a band and a choir who kept things very lively. The Bible was brought up to the front by a group of children dancing in traditional clothes. Communion was also brought up to the front by a group of people dancing. Gifts of oil, banners, rice and goats were brought to the Bishop after the main part of the service. I hope the images will capture some of my experience. Congratulations to the Bishop!
Yesterday, I was invited to a funeral of a fellow who worked with SLTU and is of the Muslim faith. If I understood correctly, a memorial service is held 40 days after the passing. Many people gathered for hours at the family home mourning and praying. Furthermore, it seemed to be a very social event and people gathered out on the street eating and sharing stories. There was definitely a real sense of community and care at the family home. After the service, the SLTU colleagues all gathered at the Northern office where we had a lunch and chance to visit. At the end, a bag (with raw meat that had been sacrificed along with popcorn) was provided to each person. A woman told me this is how the mourning ceremony ends. Rest in peace Mr. Richmond Tholley. Thank you to my friends for having me join the service.
Yesterday, I was invited to a funeral of a fellow who worked with SLTU and is of the Muslim faith. If I understood correctly, a memorial service is held 40 days after the passing. Many people gathered for hours at the family home mourning and praying. Furthermore, it seemed to be a very social event and people gathered out on the street eating and sharing stories. There was definitely a real sense of community and care at the family home. After the service, the SLTU colleagues all gathered at the Northern office where we had a lunch and chance to visit. At the end, a bag (with raw meat that had been sacrificed along with popcorn) was provided to each person. A woman told me this is how the mourning ceremony ends. Rest in peace Mr. Richmond Tholley. Thank you to my friends for having me join the service.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Eat, Pray, Sweat!
I have had the very fortunate experience of staying at a guest house that is part of a convent. Yes, I have been spending time with the Sisters. It has been nothing but wonderful. Every morning, the roosters wake me up and I head down to the kitchen for a tasty bowl of porridge. I have given up the “Bun” for now! I am still in shock and it has been a week. One of the Sisters has been in Sierra Leone for 38 years and has been running a school for students who are hearing impaired. So, of course I have been learning sign language. There is a nursery, a primary school and a secondary school here. Aside from the regular core subjects, the secondary students have been busy preparing delicious meals for me, sewing, creating beadwork, weaving and constructing. One girl even gave me a massage as she participated in a six week massage course. The Sisters are certainly ensuring that these students have skills preparing them for potential jobs for their future. To say the least, this place is such an inspiration and I hope to be connected to this school upon my return to Canada. In communicating with the students here, this school has changed their life. Although they miss their families (as they live here), it is at this school where they learned how to sign and read lips. As I mentioned, they are learning vocational skills and have a lot less stigma here than in their home communities. When I am not relaxing at the guest house or working on my research, I have been fortunate enough to have lots of visits with Rosemarie. She greets me with bags of fresh bananas and proudly introduces me to many of her friends. She has also given me a tour of the Teacher’s College that she attends and I was able to bring the tuition money in person. She insists that it is not all that hot here and I try not to melt as we tour around town. I was relieved to hear my Freetown friends say that the heat up North was unbearable and they didn’t know how I was surviving the temps. If they were complaining, you can imagine how a Canuck finds the heat.
Bompusseh rides a bike
On the day I arrived up North, I had a visitor from the Northern SLTU office. He has been such a great help during my stay. He arranged visits with schools and has answered many of my questions while outside the capital city. He has certainly made things run smoothly. To my surprise, the way to get around this area is by motorbike. He picked me up at 8am (in a Toronto Maple Leafs ball cap I might add) and we began touring schools in more rural areas throughout the week. I love how much I can get done in a day here compared to the capital city, there just isn't the traffic to fight with. The air is much cleaner too and I can walk around safely as long as I don't mind being greeted as "Opotu"(White Person) all day. My twenty Themne words have come in handy here and the neighbours are all hysterical when I respond in their local language. They say I'm a "Themne" girl now and have given me a variety of Themne names. What an honour. Coincidentally, I was already given the Themne name "Bompusseh" a few years ago which I have discovered means authority and is a name traditionally given to the chief's wife. Not quite sure what to think of that!?!
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