Candyland: Making Benne Seed Candy
Waves go up and down. Today I’m glad I was riding. We had a guest preacher in church and he jumped and shouted and anointed people with oil. I wondered why school teachers don’t harness the same showmanship and charisma. If we could only bring the same excitement to reading and math that George Washington brought to today’s sermon Liberia would be a different country. (Making serious mental note of that!)
After service Princess took me through the market and we bought supplies for benne seed candy. We melted the sugar and folded in the toasted benne seeds. My parents watched a show inside while I held court outside with the kids. This was serious business that required an audience. I stirred and Princess shaped the candy. I encouraged her to get creative and, with her playful smile, she did. She made stars, a cross, and her crowning achievement, a cup, plate, and spoon, “for Auntie Leelia’s own!” She’s such a sweetheart.
Things teetered on the edge of rowdy as we neared completion, but I threatened not to share and they calmed down. I told them we could make coconut candy next weekend if they were good. This sealed the deal.
I feel like I’m making small progress with Princess, like she’s quietly watching my every move and soaking it in. She’s a good friend to me and I’ll miss her in Sanniquellie. I hope she gets all the good things she deserves.
BENNE SEED CANDY
Liberian Market
1 big cup Benne Seeds ($80LD)
1 small cup Sugar ($40LD)
America
2½ to 3 cups Sesame Seeds
1 to 1½ cups Sugar
Wash the benne seeds in fresh water. Using a colander carefully remove rocks, sticks, dirt, and empty hulls (the hulls will float). If the sand is plenty carefully rinse everything a second time in clean water. Scoop the empty hulls off the top and put discard.
Place the clean seeds in a large pot and heat on top of the stove or coal pot to dry and toast. The seeds will start “popping” when they are dry. Continue until the seeds are golden inside and out. Mash a few between your fingers. If the insides are still white they aren’t ready. This is a long process on a coal pot.
Remove the seeds from the heat and place them in a clean pot. Return the empty pot to the heat and add the sugar. Let it melt, stirring occasionally and breaking any clumps that form. It will turn golden brown. Stir in the clean seeds and mix until coated and starting to thicken.
When ready, spoon out a small amount into a large clean pan and quickly shape or flatten before the sugar cools. Transfer to another pan to fully cool/harden and continue until all of the mixture is gone. Note: this part is easiest with two people so one person can stir the candy on the heat while the other person shapes the pieces.
Takes 2 – 2.5 hours over a coal pot in Liberia and an estimated hour in America. Yields 15 – 20 very large pieces of candy.
Back to the Basics
Sanniquellie Central High
Yesterday Demi took us to tour the school and it was exactly what I imagined, but I still feel ready to roll up my sleeves. The classrooms are average to small in size and packed with rows of wooden chairs. Students remain in their classrooms while teachers rotate and most grades have at least two sections.
The biggest issue is that there is no latrine for me and Krista since we’re the only female teachers. If we need to go we have to go to the principal’s quarters. I’m not happy about this. I think it might pose a problem recruiting qualified female teachers so I want to find a way to make it happen (also for my own selfish sake!).
We also stopped by a teachers’ meeting and I received uproarious applause when Edwin announced I was the new math teacher. My fears about being accepted as a woman are shrinking. I’m really excited to see what the next two years have in store for me. I can already tell they’ll change me as much as I’ll help them.
Books and Computers!
Sanniquellie is already feeling like a good fit. Krista and I braved the rain this morning and were rewarded with banana donuts! Demi had food for us again this morning and we each packed in as much bread and oatmeal as our stomachs would allow.
I asked to be taken back to the house to check the roof for leaks and so far so good. We made a short list of repairs to be made before our return and met more neighbors, including about a dozen kids who already live in our front yard. I already sense we’ll have very little privacy, but I think I’ll be happy here. Sis’ Lindsey (the Response Volunteer here in the spring) started a small garden behind the house and I already have plans to expand it.
After that Demi took us to the market area and it is good! We have a large yellow building for the food market so there isn’t quite the abundance of mud and flies we get in Kakata. The rain actually stays out! The room is bright and the tables seem organized. Up country there isn’t much fresh fish so the smell is much less pungent as well. Saturday is market day and I’m excited to see exactly what that means. Apparently people come from all around and it’s a free-for-all.
On walkabout Demi took us to the County Education Office where there is a free internet cafe and library. I had to pick my jaw up off the ground. I hadn’t expected anything like this and am excited about the possibilities these resources create. Apparently students rarely use them and I intend to change that.
Krista and I stopped in the June Water shop to get water and it was like a tiny America. Coke, Sprite, Planters Nuts! Liquor, spices, toilet paper!
I’m excited to put down my roots and roll up my sleeves. Even if it oddly reminds me of Iowa!
(More) New Beginnings
Our house comes with kids!
Pinch me. This morning I packed my backpack, slipped into my lapa suit, and walked to Doe Palace to catch our taxi to Nimba county. What a trip! Six of us (driver, Matt, Krista, me, and our principals) squeezed into a station wagon that quickly turned into a roller coaster with luggage. Up down left right. Repeat. It started when our driver had to buy gas, before we even left Kakata. Five or six men swarmed around the car, one holding a giant Blue Plate jar of gas, another a funnel with a tube and the others rocking the car to help it go in.
Then we were off and as the car picked up speed Matt’s principal turned back to us with a laugh and asked if we knew what a potato road was. We shook our heads and, with a laugh, he replied, “They call it a ‘potato road’ because dey pleeenty holes. Up down. Up down.” This seemed silly until our car was careening across it, swerving around oncoming traffic, goats, and crater-sized potholes. A stop to buy an entire bunch of bananas was welcome respite… until a spider crawled out and into the backseat with us!
It quickly became clear just what “bush” means. The longer we drove the greener and taller everything got. Amazing. Like driving through an issue of National Geographic for six hours. As we left Ghanta the mountains appeared and I could hardly believe what I was looking at. This is like nothing I’ve known, familiar only through pictures. How do I know this is real?
Our house is huge. Bright blue, next to the pump, already with children in the yard. They have street lights (yes, you read that correctly!) and it has a surreal small town America feel. Trees line the center of the main road by the school and there are even recognizable sidewalks! It’s crazy. I think I can see myself here. I understand why Vince called it “The Denver of Liberia.”
Tonight a cool breeze blew as the sun set and the fire flies rose out of the grass. I could hardly believe I was in Africa. The challenges are huge – we are the only female teachers, I am the only math teacher – but the framework and potential are promising. Sanniquielle, I look forward to learning more of your secrets. I feel welcomed home.
Crayola Moments
I’ve been placed in Sanniquellie Central High School in Nimba County with Krista. We met our principal yesterday and leave to visit the school and see our house in the morning. I’m very excited! I should be packing right now, but my lantern in growing dim and I’m making little progress. I can’t pack my tent and my bed until the morning, anyway.
The past week has been a whirlwind roller coaster, some of my best highs and lowest lows (yes, runny belly finally caught up with me!). My family continues to amaze me. My host mom had her baby last Tuesday and it’s amazing how little it’s changed our family dynamic. My new “smal sista” Fable rarely cries and my mom hardly missed a beat―she was cooking me dinner when I came home just hours after her delivery! Women in Liberia are strong in many many ways (“plenty strong” as they’d say).
My sickness created a little tension in the family–they felt responsible!–so Sunday we needed to have some quality time. I borrowed some children’s books from the PC office while in Monrovia the day before so I gathered my brothers and sisters to read The Mixed-Up Chameleon, a personal favorite, Frog and Toad, and other American favorites. My little brother Luke still struggles to understand my English, though, so he quickly lost interest. Remembering the crayons I got in Monrovia the day before, I went and got an activity book for him (shout out to Catherine and Five Below!). His eyes grew and he clapped with delight. I tore out a color-by-number of a snail and helped him pick out his colors. He sat more quite and serious than I’ve ever seen him, coming to ask my approval before each color choice. He wanted it to be perfect! Each time I praised his work he giggled uproariously and jumped up as if the excitement was just too much for his little five-year-old body. He his my sunshine!
Of course everyone else wanted pictures too and within fifteen minutes our usually bustling house was silent save for the rhythmic scratching of crayons on paper. We were all crammed in the tiny kitchen area because my mom was entertaining on the porch. Nestled between Luke and Esther, my heart swelled. I looked up just as one of our hens pecked her way in, followed by her entire brood of chicks. They swarmed around us, pecking at the children’s pictures, and I thought overwhelmingly, “This is why I came to Africa.” It was one of those beautiful moments I’ll remember forever.
Samuel finished his picture and handed it to me proudly. It was a tiger, half green and half orange. I asked if he wanted to keep it and he beamed. Princess finished her car and I asked if they wanted tape to put them up in their rooms. You’d have thought I’d asked “Is Christmas fun?” Princess suggested we hang them on the porch and I wholeheartedly agreed (with Mom’s approval). Everyone posed for pictures and I floated into my room on a cloud.
This is Africa.
Something to Say for Every Occasion
My host mom had her baby yesterday! I came home from training and was surprised to hear the generator running on the porch. My sister Princess came running, grabbed my hand, and lead me inside to meet our new sister. The living room was packed with neighbors who stopped by to share congratulations and stayed for butter candy and Bollywood movies. My usual quiet corner was party-central as I sat down for dinner. Everyone was yelling congratulations to me in Kepelle and shrieking with delight to hear me able to respond. My family beamed with approval and I wished my Mano lessons were going so well.
Last week I started leaning Mano, a dialect most common in Nimba county, parts of Guinea and parts of Ivory Coast. (My host family speaks Kepelle, the most common dialect, and Gola in addition to Liberian English.) I’ll find out on Friday what school I’m placed at and next week Krista and I will travel north to see our house and meet our community. Mano is hard! I study every night before bed, but just can’t get my brain around the different sounds and structure. Did I mention it’s tonal? Oh, brother! I’m making smal-smal progress, though, and I’m sure plenty of people will want to help once we get settled in.
Today we spent the entire morning in Mano class. During break Krista and I went to my family’s shop to buy laundry soap and mango stick-candy from my brothers then stopped a woman with a bucket of donuts. $5LD for donuts! After break our teacher, Nya, announced we were going out into the community to speak Mano. He took us to two different restaurants that serve GB, a casava dish that’s similar to fu-fu and very popular in Nimba. I was abysmal, but everyone was very nice. I even heard someone behind me say, “Be nice. They’re trying very hard!”
The people of Liberia continue to astound me with their generosity, hospitality, and welcoming spirit. I look forward to what lies ahead!
My small small sister Fable
What to do when it rains?
I don’t know how to explain the rain here other than to call it epic. It started storming sometime after midnight and has been going strong ever since. It comes in swells, cascading down torrentially for thirty minutes at a time then slowing to a drizzle only to pick-up again. I imagine this is what it sounds like under a waterfall!
Yesterday we were discussing differences between American and Liberian schools. In Liberia it is common for students—and teachers!–to stay home if it’s raining. Current Volunteers Emily and Julia said that they are often the only teachers on campus if it is storming. Why? There is no electricity so the rooms get very dark and the rain is deafening on the tin roofs. The trainers asked if this was a problem in American schools. “What do American teachers do when it rains?” they asked earnestly.
We got a taste of Liberian school in the rain this morning. We visited Lango Lappaye, Magribi county’s only public junior high and high school. Small desks crowd around cramped rooms and each has at least one wall dotted with holes to let in light from the courtyard. We conducted our Liberian English lessons here and, even with only four of us in class, Morris had to walk forward and raise his voice for us to hear. Imagine addressing a group of fifty or more!
Our lesson was about giving directions and getting around the market so after class we headed out in the rain to put it into practice. Rain might stop school, but it certainly wasn’t hurting to market! We made our way through the meat and fish area where Morris pointed out zipper fish, cow skin, and pigs feet before heading to the “smal-smal tins” like spices and tiny bags of peanut butter. I was very excited to see onions, garlic, and ginger root here too. We broke for lunch and our lesson will continue later this afternoon at Matt’s homestay.
We’ve been with our families just over a week and things are finally settling into a routine. I joined an extended family with a mother, father, grandmother (ol’ ma), aunt, and six kids. Plus one more due any day! They are taking very good care of me. I’ve taught them how to play ‘go fish’ and throw a frisbee and they’ve taught me Ludo (very similar to Sorry) and shown me how to eat fish with a spoon.
Life in Liberia is good, but I miss everyone reading this at home. If this is two weeks, I can’t imagine two years. Here we go!
Finding New Routines
I was feeling a little down today so I asked some of my fellow trainees to do yoga with me after dinner. To my delight they responded enthusiastically and after a little finagling of furniture and rechargeable batteries we were off. The sweet sounds of Michael Franti drifted over the convent courtyard as I pulled out my cheat sheets (thank you Sarah and Netta!) and lead them through some simple sun salutations. Only three of us had mats so it stayed pretty gentle for at least the first half—the last thing we needed was a face-plant on the tile floor. The room quickly became an oven and sweat started flying.
Their energy and enthusiasm were exactly what I needed tonight. I thank them for sharing their practice with me (for many of them their first!) and I thank my teachers for giving me the tools I need to feel at home wherever life takes me. Namaste.
A New Kind of Normal
Life here is normal in such a surreal way. We got in Sunday evening and drove to St. Theresa’s convent in the dark. A dinner of rice with spicy sauce and sweet cornbread waited for us on the table as everyone formed a line to hoist baggage up the narrow stairs. Our American and Liberian colleagues welcomed us and we headed to our rooms. We have electricity and running water, but our LR-1 friends assured us this will feel like a palace in a few months (weeks? days?).
We’re divided up two to a room, each of us getting a twin bed draped with a mosquito net. Laura has pink and flowery sheets, but mine are a total mismatch—it feels so much like home! The fitted sheet is covered with large pink peonies and my flat sheet is blue with large pictures of (wait for it!) the Incredible Hulk. This, of course, perfectly matches the ballet bunnies and rainbows on my pillowcase. We’ve been here two nights so far and each one I’ve slept like a rock, even with the torrential rain.
Training is happening in a large air conditioned room and so far we’ve watched Power Point presentations about Liberia, malaria, and safety and security. Yesterday we also started our Liberian English lessons and four of us met outside in the courtyard as Luther walked us through the proper pronunciation of “goo mornin” and explained what “tryin’ smal, smal” means. By noon each of us had a cell phone and people immediately started texting and calling home. I waited until late at night when I was sure my parents would be home. As much as I wanted to talk to them, I almost wasn’t ready to. I don’t feel grounded here yet and I worried a tug from home might undo some of my progress. They were happy to hear from me so soon, though, and were extremely supportive. The reception was so good my mom couldn’t believe I was calling from Africa! (Are you sure you aren’t still in New York!?)
I’m also starting to figure out the exercise part of my Liberian equation. I’ve unrolled my yoga mat at least once a day since arriving and this morning Preston and Emily took a small group of us on a run past the beach and the embassy. Hopefully it’ll keep my body calm and strong. So far I feel great, not even stiff or sore from traveling. My only complaint is that my feet and ankles have swollen dramatically. I’ve been doing Netta’s legs-up-the-wall pose before bed, though, and they seem to be deflating, albeit slowly. No good TRX anchor points found yet, but I might try slinging it over my room door later to try to get something.
Anyway, life in Africa is good. The shower comes out at a trickle and the toilet tank has to be refilled with a bucket, but I think I’m already starting to love Liberia. Good work. Good people. So much hope. I can’t wait to meet my host family in a few days.
Real Stories: Air Travel
My "travel family," group three, gets ready to leave the hotel in Philadelphia and travel to Liberia. So sleepy but excited! Dani, Chris, Steph, Scott, me, and Nathan.
Thursday morning we left the hotel in Philadelphia before 7:00am and went directly to a federal building to get our yellow fever shots. We bummed around the cafeteria while everyone cycled through then loaded the bus, said goodbye to our Staging leaders, and headed to New York. Our flight wasn’t schedule to leave until after 6:00pm but we arrived around noon and made it through check-in and baggage without much incident.
Six hours later we boarded our plane and they announced bad weather would delay us (ahuh). The sun was shining, but we sat. Then it started storming. So we sat. And sat. Even after it stopped. Five hours later they announced we would get in a line of about eighty planes waiting to take off. We inched up the runway and as the engines revved a few people clapped. Then, probably second in line, we turned back! We’d been on the plane almost seven hours–long enough to fly to Brussels–but here we were driving in a circle. (Thanks to current Liberia PCV Matt for making the time pass more quickly!)
What happened? We were so close! They were even going to try to hold our connection to Liberia. An ambulance pulled up. Our flight attendant had cut herself and passed out right before take off. (This is not a joke). The crew had been working too long to legally continue to Brussels and, with no one available to fill-in, they canceled our flight. We were returned to the gate, given $10 food vouches, and left to set-up a blanket camp on the floor. They originally told us there was no way we could all travel together and that it would take weeks to get us all to Liberia. We looked at each other: unacceptable! People with phones started making calls and with patience, persistence, and flexibility we collected our bags and found our way to a hotel in Queens by 3:00pm. Showers! Beds! We thought we’d left them for good! (Or at least for now.)
Tomorrow we’ll try again with a different airline. But tonight we’ll enjoy our clean hotel rooms, hamburgers, and washing machines. I think I speak for everyone, though, when I say: We are so ready to go!
life magnanimous 