Beginnings and Endings
...now who would have inscribed my book with this? Mothers are always right.
This is my last night in Kakata. Oh, it’s too soon! I’ve grown very close with my family and will miss them tremendously. The kids have been such a joy for me (and I hope I for them). I finished The Wizard of Oz tonight and almost started crying when Glinda says, “You had the power all along,” and Dorothy says her tearful goodbyes.
Click! Click! Click …and she’s gone.
In many ways I feel like Dorothy. One day I was whisked off and dropped in a strange and wonderful land. I have very dear friends and many adventures ahead, but Missouri tugs at the back of my mind. And now Kakata will too. When I return to American I will wonder about Princess, David, Latricia, Prince… so so many people.
I finally got my clothes from Prince and they’re gorgeous. Three days late and on my third time trying to get them today, Madison waved me in to sit. Prince disappeared outside and I studied the posters. Twenty minutes later they were still working. Five treadle sewing machines and three men in a room that’s maybe ten feet by ten feet. “Price, do you want me to go and come back?” I asked. “Wait small,” he begged. “We want to talk to you.” They are all refugees from Sierra Leone and Price does not actually like to sew. It’s just how he’s making money while in school.
“I want to be a business man,” he said. I smiled and laughed. “But you already are!” “An international business man,” he clarified.
He’ll be in 12th grade this year.
Making it official
It has been an amazing few days. We swore in Friday and President Ellen was there. Krista and I met a couple in their late 50s or 60s who served in Sanniquellie in the 1970s and now live in Monrovia. They even taught at Central High!
Latricia and Fable went with me and we didn’t talk much on the bus ride. As we approached the Foreign Affairs Building, however, she leaned over. Everyone else on the bus erupted in laughter and pointed at a zebra statue. She looked past it at a large church. “During the war many people gathered here because they thought they’d be safe,” she said in a low voice. “But they were killed. The rebels came and killed them all.” She shook her head and I fought back tears. I remembered Vince’s speech the day before when he cautioned us not to forget that we’re in a post-conflict, healing, country.
It’s easy to focus on the small daily inconveniences, or alternately triumphs, and forget what really brought all of us here. Our being here at all is a sign of a return to normalcy. I am so honored to play a role, even such a small one, in the rebuilding of Liberia. All these wonderful people deserve so much more. After twelve weeks I can, without hesitation, call them my brothers and sisters.
When we got home I walked to town to see if Cecelia would teach me to bake. She was asleep so I walked to my family’s shop and bought things for popcorn balls and ginger cookies. Half an hour later I came back and she was gone! “I will wait,” I told her sister. And I did. For an hour. A group of teenage boys gathered around me and one of them remembered me from Model School. He came to 11th grade just two days. “Do you remember anything from my class?” I asked. He smiled and started doing my “angle arms” and naming “acute! obtuse! right!” I was so surprised! (Note to self: incorporate physical stuff as much as possible.) I pried him and his friends for information about Liberian students and schools. All in all it was a very pleasant afternoon. (I had no idea everyone else was at Doe Palace celebrating!)
I came home and ate dinner… but I could hear my host parents arguing in their room. I’m surprised this was the first time it happened since I arrived. It unnerved me small, though, when I over heard snatches that sounded like they could be about me. So I was relieved when Princess said we needed to go back to the market. My mom came out when she heard us come back. “Where are you going, Leela?” she demanded. I have always come and gone freely so I was taken aback. “Nowhere. We come from market.” She replied “Come. You need to carry me somewhere.” I said, “Of course,” and we left.
We walked down the road to the small football field and she stopped in the half darkness. “I’m sorry you heard me and my husband fighting.” I assured her it wasn’t a problem but she continued. Princess failed 7th grade and rather than make her learn her lesson my dad is just letting her switch schools. My mom is furious. They paid plenty money to send her to the Catholic school. My mom walked while pregnant to help pay for it. Princess has only lived with them a year, she explained, and before that her grades were bought for her.
I was so relieved she hadn’t been fighting about me… and so mad at Princess. Apparently she has a boyfriend and she and Sattah sneak out at night. My mom is mad my dad won’t come down on her about it. Oh, human problems are the same across languages and cultures! I was, and continue to be, very disappointed in both girls. But is it their fault? Probably not. Until recently has anyone been a good role model? Latricia is amazing, but Princess has only been here a year. Before that she was passed to relatives around the interior.
Oh, cruel fate! Life can be a roll of the dice. Hopefully she can still win…
Money! Money! Money!
I finally went to the bank today and it was unbelievable. Two tellers manned windows and each had at least fifteen people in line. The room was silent and everyone turned when we entered. We talked to the manager and were escorted to an office. Basically, we skipped the two hour line because we’re white. I felt guilty as fifty sets of eyes watched us walk out less than twenty minutes later, even though that’s exactly what we’ve been told to do…
Sisterhood
Princess, Sattah, and Esther fend ground peas on the porch while the ol' ma watches from her usual chair.
Swearing in is tomorrow. It hardly seems possible. I remember back in June when I would come home every night and, with a heavy sigh, cross another day off the calendar. Then suddenly July was over and here was are halfway through August, less than a week from moving to site. I’m really doing this!
I went to the tailor to get my suit after session and Price wasn’t there. “He’s at church,” Madison said. “Come back tomorrow.” I gave him a stern look and said simply, “No.” I explained the situation again and once I “begged” he smiled wide and assured me it would be ready by 8:00pm.
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
I went home and danced with the kids until it was dark then ate my dry rice and fish. Princess walked me back to the tailor and it was ready! I was elated! Until I got home, put it on, and saw the sleeves were not what I asked for. They are hideous! I asked him not to put elastic in them and he said, “Oh, there’s no elastic in those sleeves.” Hmm. Miscommunication. Apparently he meant, “I will make entirely different ones without elastic.” I look like a grandma… with giant fish fins on her shoulders. Yikes. I wanted to look fine-o… not fin-o. Oh well. I have a third lapa left over so when I get to site maybe my new tailor can make me a new top (the skirt is bootylicious but fine).
It could be worse: Krista was still at her tailor at 10:30pm and had just tried on the skirt! They were going to take the embroidery out of the collar since the machine was broken and try to finish it. Oh my. We’ll match in our pure ridiculousness. That’s for sure. There are tons of gorgeous clothes walking around the streets here—I just haven’t figured out how to ask my tailor for them. So I’m crossing my fingers about the three things I’m still expecting from him before Wednesday. I keep changing my mind on the poor guy so who knows what I’ll end up with. I’m sure he and Madison think I’m ridiculous, but I don’t mind. That’s pretty much par for the course here. I am what I am and that’s what I am and that’s ok.
Walking home I asked Princess who would get their room back when I left. She was quiet then said, “Me.” I was shocked. For some reason I thought it would be my brother who sleeps on the floor by the door. “And Sattah,” she continued. I was even more surprised. Isn’t Sattah our neighbor…? I let all this sink in a second. “Sattah lives with us?” I asked. “Sattah is my good friend,” Princess said, “and I was alone in my room so I invited her to sleep with me. Her family’s home is one room and not everyone fits inside.” I’d wondered. I walk past it every day and it’s about the size on my room with no windows and a thatch roof. Everyone is in the yard, even in the rain, under a small cane gazebo with a coal pot and a low table.
“Princess!” I said, “You are so nice!” She shrugged in the dark. I feel like we have a special friendship but this added a whole new dimension. When she has said, “Oh, Auntie Leela, we will miss you!” I’d never imaged that I’d kicked her out of her own room and literally put her friend back out in the rain. I felt guilty for sometimes being annoyed with Sattah for always hanging around. I thought she just wanted me to give her candy and crayons. I mean, maybe she did, but she is more of a sister than I realized. I want to do something special for her and Princess before I leave. I could buy them lappas, but that doesn’t seem like enough. Take them to get a new dress made? Pay their school fees? They have given me a special gift that cannot be quantified and given a value. I hope in some small way I’ve given back to them. I think I have, but only time will tell and I may well never know.
Today we had a closing ceremony for PST. I was labeled, “Most likely to adopt the Liberian lifestyle.” I was a little annoyed and insulted at first (some of the volunteers poke fun at people they say are ‘too integrated’) but the more I think about it, I own it. There is a beauty to life here, a kindness and generosity that makes fourteen years of bloody conflict seem unlikely rather than raw and fresh. If adopting the lifestyle means knowing my neighbors, cooking, and doing my own chores then, yes, I already have. Isn’t that half of what I signed up for?
We cannot direct the wind—but we can adjust the sails.
Lapas and Baking
Ellen’s trip was canceled! She’s coming to our swearing in on Friday! I’m so excited. I pick up my suit tomorrow afternoon and am crossing my fingers that it will be perfect. If not… I’ll be wearing something else. I’m also going to see Cecelia tomorrow to learn cinnamon rolls and cake. Oh, if this really happens I’ll be the happiest girl in Kakata.
I love to cook and bake at home and learning to do it here grounds me and helps me feel at home. It’s really kind of an art here too. No setting a timer and walking away. You do everything by feel and instinct. You file your recipes in your mind and adjust them freely to your whims. I can already see my weeks in Sanniquellie unfolding: teaching, working out, baking. Ahh, the good life!
Baking Banana Bread
The rain finally stopped this afternoon and I baked with my mom. Banana bread and donuts. Sifting the flour through my fingers and cutting in the butter, I felt at home. In America I baked banana bread almost once a week (especially when I was stressed) so few things in Liberia have felt so familiar. Peeling ginger, mashing bananas, dusting pans… I could close my eyes and see my kitchen at 1409 Hinkson. My big jars of flour and sugar heaped in the Wawa crate, the basket of ripe bananas waiting in the freezer, and the greasy tattered recipe I never followed anyway.
My mom left Princess and me outside and I snuck a taste of dough. Something was missing. I ran inside and got my cinnamon. I heaped several spoonfuls in and quickly mixed away the evidence. A dash of nutmeg and I was satisfied. I held my finger to my lips and looked at Princess, “Shhh! Let’s see if she notices!”
Ten minutes later my mom was stirring the dough when she stopped short and sniffed, “Did you put in nutmeg?” Oh, she’s good!
It went on the coal pot and I started the cake donuts. As I sifted the flour through my hands Princess smiled and took and big whiff, “Mmmmm, Auntie, Leela, your cinnamon makes it smell so good!” I winked and continued with the donuts. My mom showed me how to make them into little circles and we plopped them in the hot oil. They puffed right up then started crumbling! Princess had put in too much butter and the flour was “too tough.” It kept the bananas bread from rising and being fluffy too. It was delicious, just dense and flat.
My mom yelled at Princess for ruining the donuts and sent David to buy more flour. “Run! Like a man!” He returned without any and said no one would sell him only $50LD worth. So my mom called Samuel over and sent him to get some from our shop. Half an hour later we were mashing my perfect donut circles back together and adding more flour.
This morning I walked outside to rinse the bath bucket and my mom clucked, “Leela can tie lapa like true Liberian woman. Very fine. 99%!”
BANANA BREAD
LIBERIAN MARKET
2 cups flour (heaping standard can) $35LD/cup
1 eating spoon baking powder $20LD
1 small pile of ginger (3-4 pieces) $5LD
1 cup ico oil $250LD for a big bottle
5 very ripe plantains or 10 very ripe bananas $50LD
½ cup sugar $40LD
small salt
½ cup water
AMERICA
3 ½ cups flour
1 tbsp baking powder
3-4 pieces fresh ginger
1 cup olive or canola oil
5 very ripe bananas
¼ cup sugar
salt to taste
¼ cup water
Combine flour and baking powder in a large clean pan. Peel ginger and grate into mixture. Cut together with hands. Add sugar then oil. Mix until combined.
Wash and peel the bananas and beat in a mortar until mashed. Add to flour mixture and stir to combine with a cooking spoon. Add the water and more oil if it is too sticky.
Divide into buttered and floured baking tins. Bake….. until done. Makes two good sized loaves.
Graduation
It was raining so we held graduation in the "auditorium"
We finally started after 9:00 and about five minutes before Garrett asked me to make a speech on behalf of the trainees. Um, sure? I ran through some things in my head while Alonso and Vince spoke and winged it. Success (I think)!
After the ceremony I collected my box from Vince and headed home in the rain. It rained and rained and rained! While I was eating my mom said something about calling Cecelia to teach me to bake. I nodded and said that we could also get things and she could teach me banana bread the next day. She looked at me funny and there was a pause. Miscommunication! She never called Cecelia.
Princess, Sattah, and I went to the market around 4:00 when the rain finally stopped and I dropped a “ton” on ingredients for bread, donuts, and groundpea candy. It felt like a lot, but was really probably $10US–much less than if I’d gone to Monrovia with everyone else this weekend. This is also about the last weekend here. I move to Sanniquellie in exactly 10 days.
We swear in Friday and have a big party with our families Saturday. It feels too soon! I’ve grown so comfortable here. It feels crazy to say, but Kakata feels like home. I can only hope I feel the same way about Sanniquellie in another two months.
My mom just picked a tick out of my ear. I guess we’re family now.
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- It was raining so we held graduation in the “auditorium”
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- Princess and Sattah were in 7A.
Last day of Model School
Anita and me at Model School Graduation. Wow, that's a lapa suit!
Today was a good day. We finished exams this morning and I was the first person to turn in grades for the class I was sponsoring. We spent the afternoon relaxing at Doe Palace, playing cards, talking. My packing (promised Wednesday) is still MIA (along with many others) but I got a letter.
It was from my mom to my host mom. Tear jerker. Way too sweet. She printed the pictures I sent her about a month ago and typed a long letter. I think it might have made my host mom cry when she read it too.
When I got home I handed it to her and she told me some boys had just kicked a football right into her face on the road. She said she blacked out and fell to her knees. I kicked myself for having bad timing, but she dried her face and opened the envelope. Everyone swarmed around to see the pictures. Latricia read it with a big smile then, folding it carefully, said, “She did well. Tell her she did well.”
She showed it to my host dad and he came to tell me with a smile, “Luke is in almost every picture!” Busted.
After training I finally caught my tailor, Prince, at his shop and made the arrangements for my swearing in clothes. I bargained him down to $1,400LD (about $20US) and I think that’s a decent price. Latricia said to pay $850LD but he said no way, plus yesterday his assistants quoted me something like $2,000LD. “Fine,” he said, “But don’t tell anyone. Just for you, Leela.” I’m excited about it, but might go back tomorrow and ask not to have puffy sleeves. The elastic pinches after about ten minutes and leaves a big red ring.
After dinner (and the most amazing hot donut I’ve ever had, courtesy of my new baker friend, Cecelia) I shelled ground peas with my kids. I bought sugar to make candy, but my mom said I’d bought the wrong ground peas. …so we just ate them. Then I got the radio out and had a dance party on the porch. They love Lady Gaga!
My mom sent Princess to buy gas and out came the generator. They put in another Indian show and Luke asked me to bring out the books. Seriously?!
I sat on the floor in the back of the room with him and David. David likes to read but is at maybe a second of third grade level despite being fourteen. We read about half of one of the story books from the PC office and he adamantly marked his place and said, “Tomorrow we will start here and I will finish.” I will sit on the floor with him all day if that’s what he wants, if that’s what it takes. In the hour and a half he read to me tonight he already improved and learned new words.
The kids here are plenty bright. They just don’t have enough people fanning their coals, encouraging their minds to kindle. At the end of several of my exams I asked my kids to write what they would change about their school if they could be principal for a day. Many of them said things like, “I would replace all the teachers with qualified ones,” or, “I would stop students spying and buying grades.” As a generation they are being failed.
My heart sank after school when Anita and several other 10B students approached and asked for my phone number. They wanted to call and ask me math questions! I said no, but it was extremely hard. Anita is one of my bottom students. “You have good math teachers here who will help you,” I said. She shook her head, “I like your class,” she said. As she turned to leave I had to remind myself that fifty girls just like her are waiting for me in Sanniquellie. You cannot save them all.
She is special to me, though. Last week I was walking around the room, checking problems, and she grabbed my wrist, “How do you know my name?” she asked. I was confused at first (there are only ten students in the class) so I just said, “Why because you always come to class! You know my name so I should know yours, right?” She’s quiet and very behind. I wonder if anyone else has ever cared enough to notice her.
Exams
Today was the first day of exams. I’m exhausted! But for the first time in two weeks I don’t have work to do tonight. Its awesome! I got all my grading done this afternoon and the students did really well. I’m proud of them. I’m proud of myself. I’ve learned a lot, grown a lot, since we started a few short weeks ago. I feel like I’m ready to go to Sanniquellie and meet my kids.
Today I put my foot down several times without hesitation and surprised myself. During second period a group of fifteen or so students were being rowdy in a classroom next to mine and I walked in and told them to knock it off in my best teacher voice. When they were out of control not five minutes later I went back and firmly pointed to the door. “Everyone out! I will not let you disrupt my exam.” Several of the older girls glared. I looked right back and waited.
Then I chased two singing kids away from the window. I yelled out for them to leave then marched out there myself. As soon as I stepped out the front door they screamed and turned tail. The adults cackled and clapped for me. Thankfully Chris was still inside proctoring or I wouldn’t have been able to leave.
I think the kids respect me and that makes me really glad. I also think they like me. And that makes me really glad. Vince texted me the other night and accused me of enjoying training. He’s right. I am.
life magnanimous 