So I
just got off the phone with my parents, who did a wonderful job of putting this
whole blog thing into perspective for me (what are parents for, after
all?). Its purpose isn’t to paint you a
pretty picture full of colorful words that describe to you everything I’m doing
here on a daily basis. The purpose is to
share with you the moments that make the biggest impressions on me to hopefully
give you some kind of an idea of what life is like here. When put that way, I’m excited to get
started! I’m just going to start writing
stories and see where it goes. Bear with
me.
As I
said briefly in my last post, the people here are wonderful, and I feel much of
the first impression I give you of Sierra Leone should be similar to what mine
was: the people are welcoming and warm,
and socially superior to anyone I’ve ever met.
What I mean by that is that this culture exudes a sort of social
intelligence that I’ve experienced among very few people I’ve met in the
states. There is never a lull in the
conversation, until everyone has run out of things to say, at which point you
sit in silence until someone else has something thoughtful to say. It’s not awkward, and it’s the most
refreshing setting I’ve ever been in. My
head is never searching aimlessly for shallow topics of conversation amongst
people I don’t know well. Instead, I
mean what I say when I want to say it and conversation is effortless. There’s no such thing as weird, there’s no
such thing as awkward; people just like to talk to you and be around you. They like you if you’re quiet and they like
you if you’re loud as long as you smile and engage them in conversation.
Greeting
people you pass in the street is a big deal here. You don’t always have to stop for
conversation, but going through the motions makes a big impression. One of my favorite things about the people
here is that they always look so pissed off whenever they’re not talking to
anyone. Without knowing them, you’d
think these people were unhappy and hated each other and wanted to keep to
their own business as you pass them on the streets. That is until you make eye contact and smile
at them; they’re faces light up as every muscle makes an effort to form the
widest grin possible. It’s amazing. I absolutely love walking down the street and
smiling stupidly at strangers. They love
it too. The first time this happened to
me was during one of our first few days here, and it gave me a feeling of pure
connection and happiness I’ll never forget.
Our first actual trip into Freetown from the hostel we stayed in the
first week in Salone was to meet the president (pretty awesome). So the reality of what this looked like was a
parade of 5 or so jeep-like Peace Corps vehicles packed with about 10 white
people each making its way through the streets of Freetown. Needless to say, we got a lot of stares. Some people smiled and waved, while others
kind of just stared with that pissed off look on their face. I happened to be seated at the back of my
vehicle where I could watch what we drove by as it passed behind us. We drove through an intersection and passed a
couple guys on a motorcycle who were stopped (or slowed, people don’t really
stop here) to make a turn. The street was crammed with people, but
somehow I managed to lock eyes with the particularly angry looking passenger on
the back of the motorcycle. As we pulled
away, I kept my gaze on his and
smiled. When he realized what was going
on, his face broke effortlessly into a giant grin as they drove off in the
opposite direction. So, in the middle of
a crowded, dirty city in a country that was still so new and weird to me,
and in the span of a few random seconds,
I felt instantly connected to my surroundings.
I wish I could describe it better, but it was one of the more amazing
moments I’ve experienced in my life.
Part of me hopes none of these people ever venture to New York.
What
Sierra Leoneans have in social skills, they definitely lack in their ability to
think critically. I don’t mean that to sound derogatory or rude. They just simply aren’t taught to think
critically. As a science teacher, this
is actually going to be one of my biggest, if not biggest, challenges. Everything is exactly the way it is because
of God or Allah, duh, (doesn’t matter which), and witches and dragons are
real. You go to school to pass exams to
go to university to become a doctor or a lawyer. Yes, I’m hard core generalizing, but it’s an
accurate generalization. All material in
school is learned through rote memorization and I’m not sure students even
understand the concept of a concept. The
government recognizes that this needs to change in order to offer up educated
boys and girls to the world, but it’s not easy to change the way people think,
and that’s what needs to happen here. I
run into this issue of thinking critically with my host family on a daily
basis, and to be honest, it is starting to wear on me. This Friday I attempted to attain well water
to put into my water filter so I’d have filtered water for the weekend. My sister (about 15 years of age) absolutely
refused to let me do this, as water from a well is entirely undrinkable. Instead, I was to walk from my backyard,
across the street and meander through houses to the water pump. Not only was I unable to explain that the
water from the well and the pump come from the same place, I was unable to
explain that the explicit purpose of my filter was to be able to turn
undrinkable water into drinkable water, more or less regardless of its
source. My family understands that the
water I drink must come from my filter (Peace Corps informs them of this), but
they’re unable to connect that to what it is my filter actually does. So, I didn’t get water Friday because I
refused to give in and tote a heavy bucket of water farther than I needed
to. After a much needed night out with
some other volunteers, Saturday morning I woke up with a nice hangover, and without
clean water to drink. I tried to quietly
sneak some from the large tub of well water in the bathroom that we use for
washing, but was caught in the act by the same sister. Visibly frustrated this time around, I tried
again to re-explain to her that IT DIDN’T MATTER WHERE THE WATER CAME FROM, I
WAS GOING TO FILTER IT, to no
avail. I even told her I didn’t care if
I got sick. Didn’t work. She wrestled the bucket out of my hands,
dumped it back into the tub, and ordered me to go to the pump. We walked outside to find most of the rest of
my family sitting in the yard. My
sister proceeded to tell them what I’d just tried to do, and they proceeded to
laugh at me for being so silly and lazy.
Yes, lazy, for not wanting to carry a bucket of water any farther than I
had to. It is what it is, and I
genuinely love my family and the people here, but it’s frustrating, and that’s
not going to change.
What
else. I have a mouse that likes to sneak
through my door and visit my trash can every night. Annoying, but not nearly as annoying as
finding a giant cockroach crawling up the inside of my mosquito net when I wake
up in the morning. To be honest, I find
it’s little nibbling noises oddly, but not surprisingly comforting. Maybe it’s Kevin reincarnated. Witches are real here, no reason that
shouldn’t be. One of my friends
suggested I trap it and keep it for a pet.
I’ll let you know how that goes.
Oh, my ceiling is currently leaking
onto my bed. Yay rainy season. Luckily I’ve gotten pretty tight with our
logistician, who takes care of any logistical issues during training, such as
this. Should have that patched up by the
time I get back from my site visit.
Site visits!! Last Tuesday we were informed of our site
placements, tomorrow we’ll be meeting with our school supervisors, and
Wednesday we leave to spend four days visiting our site! This is a really exciting time for all of us.
This is where I’ll wrap up this
post, more about my site visit next time.
