So let me give a little background here. Mary Broh is the Mayor of Monrovia, well sorta. She wasn’t elected by the people, she was appointed by Ellen, and I’m not sure (someone correct me if I’m wrong) that her appointment has been confirmed by the rest of the government. Broh has made headlines with her aggressive clean up campaign in Monrovia. She’s even sparked some public disturbances. While the city needs to be cleaned up, and definitely needs to have some zoning and right of way laws enforced Broh’s methods are a little harsh for such a fragile country. She just shows up and bulldozes homes and businesses that aren’t up to code, knocks over street stalls, kicks over wheel barrow and scratch card booths. She’s even physically assaulted a few marketeers.

Again, I think we all agree that Monrovia at some point needs to cleaned-up, but the country is also still very, very poor. To completely destroy someone’s livelihood in a country with 80% unemployment because they’re too close to the sidewalk may not be the best way to help. Further more, Broh’s campaign is being carried out in a very random and ad hoc manner. There’s no transparent process that is being applied to help people know when and what she’ll be doing. Also the law on squatter’s rights and zoning isn’t clear. And even if it is clearly written out in some volume in city hall, the common Liberian has no idea what there rights are, what the law says, and what due process they should expect. Because of Broh’s ties to the president many feel that she can just do whatever she wants. All these things undermine the rest of the governments attempts at earning back the trust of the people through good governance. And finally, it’s much easier to destroy something than to build it back up. Yes she’s cleaned up a lot of shanty towns, but now there’s just piles of rubble. She’s not building new markets to replace the stalls she burnt down (yeah she even burns stuff down), nor is the government supplying land for people to build new homes on.

In response to this an associate of mine has printed up some “Don’t Raze Me Broh” t-shirts. Obviously playing off of the “Don’t Taze Me Bro” line made famous in the US elections last year. The idea is to help people speak out against the poor governance practices Broh is demonstrating. If you want one they’re $8 each. We even have girl sizes. And with each shirt you buy another shirt will be donated to a Liberian to help them protest as well. If you want a shirt drop me a line. Shipping is extra.

Ironically, when two of the t-shirt creators were buying blank shirts in Water Side market,  Broh showed up and slapped one of the vendors just as the t-shirt creators were buying shirts. Broh then stopped to shake the white peoples’ hands. Amazing.

Speaking of victims of Mary Broh… A while ago some of the amputee guys I try to help told me that a guy from Europe named Jean Risse was going to give them over $1000USD to start a car washing business. I was impressed at the amount, that’s quite a loan here. Since the guys would need to email their new business associate I offered to do all of that for them since they don’t exactly have access to reliable internet (technically I don’t have access to reliable internet, but that’s all relative here). So I’ve been emailing with Mr. Risse who works for a microfinance NGO called 2Unite. After a lot of back and forth,  and some pointers  on how to write a business plan, Jean agreed to wire over the funds. So I’ll keep you posted on that. I’m excited for the guys. If all goes well, this could make a huge difference in their lives. Jean put a little blurb about this project on the 2Unite website here, and here it is in English, sorta.

I was at the TRC conference for Reconciliation a few weeks ago. The conference was held at the Unity Conference Center in Virginia, Montserrado County. I was super impressed by how nice this facility was. While it had obviously suffered during the war, it was still a very nice facility. I really like seeing things that remind you of what Liberia was before the war. To that effect I learned this week that the fall in GDP brought on by the war was the largest in recorded history. If you want to see the Unity Conference Center head out towards CeCe beach or hotel Africa and take a right at the sign.

On the way to the Unity Conference Center I was pulled over for not having the safety sticker that says proves my vehicle is safe. I would go off about how ridiculous the stickers are, how you can spot the cars with no bumpers, turn signals, or head lights with out a sticker, and this is just one more way to harass drivers, but that’s not the point. So I talk to the guy for a while and I tell him there’s no process for getting the stickers, that I was never told I needed one at the Ministry of Transport when I registered the vehicle, and that no one really knows where to go to get a sticker. After talking for a while the police officer tells me “The ticket for not having a sticker is $75[USD] (which is absurd), but since you work for TRC, just give me $35[USD].” To which I replied, “I’m not gonna bribe a police officer.” Then the most amazing thing happened. He looked at the window, yelled at the cop who had my license and was writing a ticket, “He’s not gonna bribe us. Lets go.” And they left. Not only that, but they left in such a hurry that the one cop left his hat in the car. Thus the picture above.

I thought long and hard about it, and decided it’d be better to be a nice guy than a jerk, so on the drive home I gave the officer his hat back. I think he’ll leave me alone for a while. And I did finally catch the LNP’s traveling safety inspections, after driving to two different places. Here’s the officer checking that my horn works.

Finally, someone here sent me this picture of a shot up van durring the war. It’s pretty incredible so I just wanted to post it. It really gives you an idea of how bad the fighting was and how intense it got at certain points. I’m told this vehcile used to be parked by the bridge in Freeport.

Just a quick update on Mr. Smith and his family’s small business. Last time I had spoken with him he had asked me to give him another loan to build an extension to his house to put the shop. Currently, the Smiths kept all the inventory of their dried goods business in the corner of the their one room house. Expanding would give them some much needed space and give their clients a more professional shopping experience. However, at the same time Mr. Moses, Mr. Smith’s brother (different father, different mother) had also asked that I help pay for him to have his prosthetic leg refinished because it was starting to rub his leg raw, so I did that instead.

But the last time I visited the Smiths I was happy to see that Mr. Smith had gone ahead and taken the initiative to build the extension himself. You can see the extension in the photo at the top. This is definitely another positive sign of Mr. Smith’s business sense and his proactive attitude. So many people would have just waited for me to pay for it for them, so I was very impressed by this. He told me he still needed help getting some shelves installed. We’ll see about that when I get back from Ghana. 

John

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A while ago I wrote about Mr. Smith. He’s a blind double amputee that I’ve befriended while being here. He’s been my favorite amputee because of his cheerfulness and gratitude. In July he asked me to give him some money so his wife, Ruth, could sell dried goods. I asked him to submit a list of items and prices. The next week he had a shopping list ready for me. So I took his wife and his friend, Moses, to Red Light market where we bought around $100USD worth of goods. They were all excited to have their store fully stocked, and it was kinda exciting for me as well.

So this past week I stopped by to check on the store. Mr. Smith happily told me he had sold 6 bags of rice since I had last seen him. At first I thought, “Hmmm six bags, I was hoping for more like 60, but it’s a start.” But then I saw the empty rice bags on the floor. I realized that in less than a month he had sold 6 50kg bags of rice!!! That’s about 660lbs for you Americans. Not to mention 12 gallons of cooking oil. The picture at the top left is Mr. Smith with his kids and Ruth standing in front of the empty rice bags and oil jugs.

After seeing the empty bags Mr. Smith showed me the tin can he had his savings in. He said every day he puts 50LD in it. I looked at the tin and asked how to open it. Everyone laughed, and said you don’t. You put money in it till it won’t fit anymore and then break it open. He told me he only puts 50LD bills in the can and not 10 x 5LD bills. He also showed me his current cash surplus. It totaled around $30USD. In a country where most people make less than a dollar a day, having $30USD lying around plus a savings tin full of money means you’re doing pretty well. To the right is Mr. Smith with his two children and the business’s money.

So far this seems to have been my first sustainable development success. The phone charging business I helped start when I was here last year is non-existent and the guy never paid me back, though his cell phone scratch card business is doing well. I’ve been told by some amputees at the super market that Ruben, the man I bought the tarp for to cover his house, has sold the tarp. Though when I talk to Ruben he tells me he’s just waiting to save up enough money to buy some woven mats for the walls.

At any rate, I haven’t lessened anyone’s situation and it feels great to see Mr. Smith succeeding. He told me he wants $50USD to buy a tarp and some building materials to construct a small shop on the side of his house. I think Mr. Smith has graduated from charitable donations to loans with interest.

John

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So once again I went out to Robertsport in search of clean waves, beautiful beaches, and good times. As always the beaches were beautiful, and good times were had. Sadly the waves were a little choppy and the current was super strong. I had to be continuously moving to stay in the same place. It was tiring and frustrating to always be in the wrong place and then have to paddle back. I also managed to put a little gash in my board when trying to get out over some rocks. So the surfing could have been better. I managed to get a couple of good rides in and a great workout. A bad day at the beach is still better than a good day working.

The real excitement of this trip, as Sean, Carter Center, Lauren, ARC, and I discovered was Nana’s Lodge. A few months ago when I was here I met some South Africans who said they were going to build a hotel out of “five-star tents.” Needless to say I found this a little questionable. But sure enough, there on the beach were some pretty nice looking tents built on wooden decks in the beach front hill side. The tents were the kind of tent you’d think of the army pitching when they needed a field hospital, not a family camping trip. Each tent had two very nice beds, a fan, and a mini-fridge. I thought they were really nice. You could be comfortable, but still feel like you were taking in nature. The tents are $100.00 USD a night, though you can squeeze as many people in a tent as you like. With two beds you could comfortably sleep 2 people in a room, 4 if you don’t mind doubling up. The guy we talked to said, “You could probably get 16 people in there if you all slept on the floor.” Somehow I think he looked at us and knew we were all right out of college.

We had brought our own tent, and hadn’t budgeted for $100, so we slept right outside of the lodge. The guys who ran the place, Joe, Enky, and Musa were very nice and let us park our car in their lot and use their facilities.

They also have a pretty nice bar with reasonably priced drinks, darts, and a sand floor. The sand floor was my favorite part. We stayed up playing Jenga with team America vs.Canada vs. South Africa. After that Sean, Lauren, and I had a headlamp strobe dance party. We thought we were pretty cool. In the morning we had an amazing breakfast: Eggs, bacon, Sausages (hotdogs), milk, coffee, cereal and fruit. I couldn’t believe it. It was so good.

On the whole I like the lodge. It seems to have been done well. The construction seems solid and no doubt business will be good. They said they were booked solid for the next two weeks. I am slightly worried that the unspoiled beauty of Robertsport is now going to fade. Granted you can still walk 20 minutes down the beach and find yourself in paradise with no trace of humanity, I just hope it stays that way. This kind of tourism could do a lot for the local economy or it could lead to more foreign exploitation. I also worry about the safety on the beach. They have security at Nana’s, but now the beach will draw more attention from the wrong kind of crowd. At the moment things seem fine, I hope they stay that way.

If you want to book a tent at Nana’s Lodge call Joe Richards (+231-6-814-795).

If you want something a little more wilderness and a little less luxury call Sam Browne(+231-6-604-084). Sam is a local fisherman in Robertport who has been very helpful in arranging for the safety and security of several of the camping trips I’ve been on at Robertsport. We’ve paid him $10 USD per car to keep the vehicles safe and a little extra to keep an eye on the tents. He’s also helped some clueless expats when they needed it. This past trip we were struggling to get a fire started with rain soaked wood. Out of nowhere Sam and another guy show up with a piece of scrap metal with a pile of red hot coals. We were also a little worried about our stuff being by itself as we headed out for Nana’s bar. I felt confident Sam would keep the place secure, but being his first time, Sean had his doubts asking, “Where is this Sam guy anyway?” Probably 5 seconds later Sam and a small entourage appeared out of the darkness. Sam was there to make sure everything was ok. I told Sam what we wanted to do and our predicament. He said no problem, looked at a member of his party and said, “Stay here and watch their stuff.” When we returned a few hours later, the same man was curled up next to our tent with a sleeping bag. Everything was still there. I’m not sure how much I like the thought of someone sleeping on the beach to guard my fancy, over priced camping gear so I can drink a beer, but he’s getting more money doing that than he would otherwise. And I’d rather contribute directly to the local economy than through a private security service. So if $100 for a tent is a little steep or you wana have a more primitive camping experience, call Sam. Otherwise, call Joe.

John
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Last night I went to the Liberian Basketball Association’s final championship game. The Kings played the Pythons. The match was held at the basketball arena downtown off of Broad Street. When we arrived there were already cars parallel parked all along the road… two deep. So what did we do? We just parked behind another car that was parallel parked in front of other cars blocking them in. This police officer walked up and motioned to us. I thought he was going to tell us not to park there because we were blocking the other cars in. Nope, he just asked that we move further forward so more cars could fit in. I love Liberia.

We paid 100LD each to get in and then walked through the gate. Sean, of Carter Center fame, made the comment, “this is like those basketball courts you see in video games that you don’t think really exists.” It was dusk, the sky was purple with the setting sun, bombed out buildings and the skeleton’s of skyscrapers peeked out just over the stands, six halogen lights on simple poles shown down on the court providing the only light. The stands were concrete block risers with 2″x6″s for seats. They couldn’t be simpler. Boys walked around selling beer, soft drinks, water, and candy. The court was old and worn. Lonestar, the country’s biggest GSM operator, sponsored the arena and had their name on everything.

The game was pretty good. There was a lot of carrying and traveling. And quite a few fouls. But on the whole it wasn’t half bad. It was entertaining to watch. At half time two local artists came out and lip synced to their song. I don’t know why they do that, but it seems to be what you do here when you provide a concert. There were two artists and one mic. It was pretty obvious they weren’t really singing, but everyone loved it. Also entertaining the crowd was a little kid who could bust a move. He couldn’t have been older than 4, but he sure could dance. Everyone went crazy for him. People even threw some LD at him. The kids parents yelled at a few people who got to close to him. It was pretty fun to watch the whole thing.

As they game drew near the final minutes the score was tied. People started standing up and getting really into it. With 50 seconds left the Kings pulled ahead by 2, then by 6. It was clear they were going to win. People started throwing bottles and cans on the court. Lots of yelling started. Some people started screaming at each other. Pewee, Also of Carter Center fame and a legendary photo journalist, looked at us and said, “Lets go.” When a Liberian tells you it’s time to go, it’s time to go. So we left. Thankfully we weren’t blocked in by a 3^rd row of parallel parking so we speed off into the night.

On a completely unrelated note, roads are being fixed all around town. A lot of Monrovia’s worst roads have been fixed. From Freeport to Capital bye pass, and now UN Drive has been the latest to get a face lift. A few months ago they finished up Tubman Blvd. and just the other day I was completely thrown off when UN Drive was blocked because they were redoing the stretch between Center Street and Randal Street, no doubt the bumpiest road in Monrovia. It’s exciting to see this kind of progress. But what am I going to do when the roads here are all smooth and easy to drive down? I’m going to miss that third world feel I’ve come to love, splashing through puddles in an SUV and dodging pot holes on my motorcycle.

On the other side this only highlights how desperately Monrovia needs new roads. The problem is there is one main road, and when that’s blocked, traffic comes to a standstill everywhere. We need a city planning NGO to come to Liberia. Most of the roads already operate at or beyond capacity, buildings are built right up to the edge of the road and what’s left of the side walk is used by small vendors. People mostly walk in the road. I’m not sure there’s enough room to expand the roads in Monrovia even if they could. I kind of think they should just move town 5 miles south towards the airport and plan it out a little better. I’m sure the other utilities have similar problems dealing with the new demands of development and the old plague of misuse. I think it’d solve a lot of problems to just start all new constructions down the road. But that’s probably easier said than done.

John

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I’d like to introduce my dear friend Mr. Jonathan Saah. Jonathan is a local Liberian entrepreneur. After the war he saved up enough money to buy a car for use as a taxi. As Jonathan operated the taxi he earned the trust of many in the expat community. So much so, that he began to only drive expats exclusively. This was a big step forward for Jonathan’s taxi service. After a few years Jonathan was able to save up and buy a newer and more reliable car. Because of his hard work, financial wisdom, and respect for the clock, Jonathan is now able to employee another man to drive this car. Currently Jonathan’s day job is working as an IT specialist at Ecobank Liberia. However, still pursues other entrepreneurial ventures.

Jonathan was trained in computer software and networking at Universal Institute of Technology In 2001. Because of this affinity for technology Jonathan opened up an internet café in the back of his home near Newport Street, in Mamba Point, Monrovia in June 2007. The café had a 128Kbps dedicated internet connection, 3 laptops for browsing, a printer, a scanner, and a Vonage voice over IP phone. The internet café attracted many customers, but not enough to recoup the cost of the internet connection and the diesel to run the generator. Jonathan shut down café in November 2007 to prevent any further losses.

Jonathan attributes the businesses lack of success to its location. He was operating the café out of the back of his home. His home is located near the old Ministry of Youth and Sports which is 50 feet from the main road hidden behind other buildings. Thus only people who knew about the café or found out through word of mouth would come by. If the café were on the main road Jonathan believes he would receive far more customers.

To this end, Jonathan has found a vacant store front he can rent to house his café. However, the down payment for the lease is prohibitively expensive for him. Jonathan has looked into taking out a loan from a local bank but has been declined. The local financial institutions in Liberia have yet to take to the micro-lending craze. International micro-finance groups have also yet to move into Liberia. Because of this lack of resources I told Jonathan I’d make a post on my blog about his business and his need for funds. Ideally Jonathan would like a loan of $1,400.00 USD repayable in 12 month with 30% simple interest. So if loaned Jonathan $1,000.00 you’d get $1,300.00 back in 12 months. If anyone would be interested in making a loan towards this amount to Jonathan or is aware of any other options please contact me at john.etherton@gmail.com. I would be happy to be the liaison between Jonathan and any perspective micro-investors. To talk to Jonathan directly email saahjonathan@yahoo.com, jsaah2001@hotmail.com, or jsaah2001@aol.com. With Jonathan’s income from his taxi service, job at Ecobank, and the internet café, he should have no problem paying off such a loan.

Below is a breakdown of the café’s expected costs and the schedule of fees for services:

Onetime costs (USD):

Monthly Costs (USD):

Fee Schedule for services (LD, USD):

Jonathan has 3 laptops for internet browsing and the hours of operation would be 9:00am-12:00pm 7 days a week. So assuming a full house, Jonathan would make 3 laptops x $1.00 x 15 hours x 30 days = $1,350.00 a month from internet browsing alone. This would generate a profit of $680.00USD.

If you have any more questions please ask john.etherton@gmail.com or saahjonathan@yahoo.com

John

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I’ve been wanting to write something a bit more introspective, so I’m writing a bit about my thoughts on beggars in Liberia. I’d like to be generous, kind, and loving to people. At the same time I want to be safe, responsible, and wise (I’m also a bit of a cheapskate). I’m not sure I’ve figured out how to best balance all these, but I thought I’d share my ideas so far. I welcome feedback.

Needless to say, there are lots of beggars here. Being white I’m seen as being rich. Relatively speaking, I am. Eighty percent of Liberians make less than a dollar a day. Though GT doesn’t exactly pay well, and Liberia isn’t cheap, I am able to live comfortably without fear of going broke by giving away a few US dollars.

From my experiences, I’ve concluded that there are three, maybe four, different kinds of beggars. The first kind are the destitute – those who have nothing and no hope. These are probably my favorite beggars. They don’t cross the street to follow me for three blocks telling me how hard there lives are, that they only need something “small-small” to make it until next week when something in their life will change. They just humbly hold out their hands. Their faces speaking more than adequately to their need. Their clothes are worn and tattered. They gratefully accept whatever they’re given. Most likely I wouldn’t even understand their Liberian English if they tried to explain themselves to me. These beggars tend to be the elderly and/or maimed.

My heart goes out to these people. Physical they’re unable to work, so I can’t think of them as being lazy, and me being a form of welfare that removes the motivation for them to go out and work. I’ve yet to see any homeless shelter or soup kitchens here. I don’t know what other alternatives they have other than begging. Even if there was a shelter here, it would be over-crowed the minute it opened, so I’m happy to help these people with a few Liberian dollars or some food. I can’t imagine Jesus walking by and not stopping to help such people, though I must admit, when I’m pressed for time, I’ll often pass by without looking twice.

There was an elderly gentlemen, who was missing a leg, sitting by the pavilion where the TRC hearings took place. He never asked me for anything. He just sat there. I knew he was in need, and bought him a bag of peanuts. He gladly accepted it with out a word.

I’m not sure how I feel about liking that these beggars don’t accost me. On the one hand, I feel that if you’re in need you shouldn’t need an elaborate story to make me feel sorry, or follow me for a quarter mile. But then again, maybe I’m too selfish.

The second kind of beggars are kind of like the homeless you’ll meet on the streets in America. They walk up to you and ask for money. Usually they are in better physical condition than the aforementioned beggars, which makes me wonder how in need they are and what the best way would be to handle their issues. They are definitely in need; the whole country is in need. Unemployment is 70 percent. No one is going to one day stop begging and the next have a job. But then again, begging isn’t a sustainable source of income. You’re never going to get yourself out of poverty by asking expats for money.

But what do you do in the mean time? I can’t say, “you need to get a job, but for now just go hungry.” And while I do have money, I don’t have enough to give to everyone. Some expats have told me that I’m just enforcing these beggars’ dependence on others, which is true. In general, the country needs to move on past the expectation that the rest of the world will help them and start working hard for themselves. But a lot of people are in genuine need now, and the country’s problems stretch far beyond their dependence on the rest of the world.

These beggars may also be a little more demanding. They might want more than a few Liberian dollars and can be picky eaters. I bought a little boy some peanuts after he had followed me for four blocks asking for help. I was hungry and had already decided to buy some peanuts for myself. They’re cheap and have lots of protein; what’ s not to love. I figured if they’re good enough for me, they’re good enough for him. He just looked at me like, “that’s it?” I was not impressed. If this kid had been really hungry he wouldn’t care what I gave him. He wanted sardines and bread. But at the same time I doubt he had a cupboard full of food at home. Was I just reinforcing his belief that the white man will buy his dinner, or was a I really helping him? Maybe both.

I was buying water one time, and a man told me, “buy me a water.” He wasn’t very nice about it. He was dressed decently well for a Liberian. There were a lot of people standing around, so if I bought him a water what else could I do but everyone a water? I don’t carry enough cash on me to buy everyone water; it wouldn’t be safe for me to be handing out money on a street corner, and I didn’t want to buy everyone a water. That’s not what I was there for, so I offered him the rest of my water. He said he wanted his own water.

That really annoyed me. Beggars can’t be choosers. I felt pretty sure this guy thought, “he has money, he should buy me something.” This is not an attitude I want to foster. Bill Gates has money, and no doubt I’d probably try to be his friend, and get in good with him. Maybe he’d give me some free computers or something. But I’d never walk up to him and say, “buy me a car,” thinking that he owed me a car just because of his wealth.

There was a man standing next to the gentleman who had asked for the water. He was older, and his clothes weren’t as nice. He quickly snatched the water I had extended to the first man. That man was thirsty; that’s my kind of beggar.

Sometimes I’ll be talking to a guy for a few blocks, listening to his story. Later on someone else will see me and tell me the guy I was with isn’t an “honest person.” This would be the possible 4th kind of beggar – the not so honest beggar (I’ll get to three in a minute). As I said before, everyone is in need, but these are the conmen. Obviously, I know where I stand with these beggars. I just thought I’d mention them. One such fellow remembered my name from when I was here in May. He told me he needed just a little money to buy gas for his scooter so he could give rides to people and make money. A couple days later I saw him on his scooter riding around. He had gas somehow. If you’re able to afford your own scooter as a Liberian, you’re doing pretty well.

Finally there are the beggars I know – the people I work with, live close to, or otherwise see on a regular basis. For me, these are the hardest to know what to do for. I want to know them and be their friend, so naturally I want to help them. But I don’t want them to think that every time they need something they should ask John, or more importantly, that “John will always get me out of trouble.”

There’s a boy named Marbaux that lives by my house. In a round about way he told me how he didn’t have a notebook for school. On a side note, he doesn’t look me in the eye when he tells me what he needs, which I don’t like. I feel you should man up and look someone in the eye if your asking something from them. Maybe he doesn’t feel worthy to look me in the eye? At any rate, I bought him a notebook. It was only a dollar, and going to school is a habit I’d like to encourage. Education has been proven to lead to a sustainable economy. But then the next week a group of girls stopped me by my house and asked for notebooks. I haven’t bought them anything. I probably could afford to buy them all their books. But at some point I would have to stop. If I bought the girls books how long would it be until their parents were telling me how they need more rice, charcoal, or clothes? And I’m a little weary to buy stuff for girls; that could get complicated. But no doubt these girls need school supplies. What to do?

Sometimes the security guards for the building next door will ask for money to get home, for cigarettes, or for water. These guys have a job. Granted, they probably aren’t paid super well. But they have work. If they can’t afford transportation or water, I feel they should take this up with their employer and not me. Not that they know what it is to be professional, but they aren’t very professional. I laugh to myself when people like this talk about going to America and making it big. It really bothers me that they come over at night asking for a ride home as though I’m their only option. How did they get there in the first place? Did they plan ahead at all, or were they just thinking the white man would take care of it? I haven’t given these guys anything. I try to be nice to them and say hi when I walk by. Sometimes I’m a little worried since they know where I live, but I really don’t want to encourage them.

A week ago a guy I work with asked me for 75LD to get home. He told me his son had spent his money for a ride home from school, and so he gave his son his money. I had talked with this guy before. He has been friendly to me since I have known him, never wanting anything in return. I told him if I gave him money, it was a one time deal, that I didn’t want him to come asking for money next week. He told me that wouldn’t happen, and that he felt embarrassed to ask for money in the first place.

I felt good about helping him. He’d had a rough day and needed a little help. So far, he hasn’t asked for money again. I couldn’t imagine living on such a small margin; it must take a lot of faith. I’ve had unexpected expenses of much larger magnitudes before – blown out tires or unexpected bills – but I’ve always been able to pay them. It wasn’t fun, and it did impact my overall saving and spending, but life went on just fine.

So those are my thoughts on the state of begging in Liberia. Like I said earlier, I still don’t have it all figured out. I probably never will. I’d like to break it all down into a, “give this guy this, and give that guy that, and give him nothing,” formula. However, life is very much on a case by case basis.

I have learned to be honest with people. Not to make excuses about not having any money, but just saying, “No.” When I have the time, I like to hear someone out and understand their situation. Maybe there’s something I can do that will be more helpful than just giving them money. Sometimes I’ll tell the person why I won’t give them money, but I wonder if I’m doing the right thing. Jesus said, “give to everyone who asks.” (Luke 6:30) I’d like to think of myself as someone who follows His example, though I suspect I fall quite short. The Bible does say we are to be wise, even shrewd, with our resources, but I’d hate to use that to justify my own greed. I wish I could be like Peter who when asked for money by a cripple beggar said, “Silver and gold I have not, but what I do have I give you: in the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth rise up and walk.”(Acts 3:6) It’s been a while since I’ve healed anybody.

In America I like to buy a beggar a burger instead of giving them money. It ensures the money is spent on their nourishment, and it shows that you care enough to take 15 minutes out of your schedule. But things here just aren’t that simple. There’s never a Burger King around when you need one, and needs often extend beyond food. I came here to help. To give of my skills and time. How should I give of my money? How do I help the immediate need without causing long term harm, and still show love, acceptance, and grace?

John
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So week two has drawn to an end. Here’s a list of the exciting events that have transpired. I meant to make some of these their own separate posts, but who has time for that?

I went to church this weekend. Last time I was here I met a local pastor, Luther Tarpeh, who was trained in Nigeria during the war and has since returned. He’s traveled quite a bit, and is well educated so I enjoy hearing him speak. My favorite driver and entrepreneur, Jonathan Saah, drove me to church. We had my surfboard on the roof of his car, and since church is on the way to the beach, I figured we’d kill two birds with one stone. On the way to church, we got pulled over by the local authorities for violating the traffic law by having something tied to the roof. Jonathan talked to them about it; I talked to them about it. I tried to get a more clear definition of this particular law in question but to no avail. So I asked if the car had a roof rack would it be OK? They said yes because it was made to carry things. So I explained that I had bought the surf bag and straps in America just to put this surfboard on this car. Showing that this was indeed made to carry surfboards on cars. At this point, we had been there for like 5 minutes and they had checked Jonathan’s paper work, which was legit. So they got bored, realized we weren’t going to give them a bribe, and let us go. Jonathan and I had a good laugh about the experience.

The church service was pretty good – a little different than what I was used to, but pretty good. I enjoyed Luther’s message on using our spiritual gifts for God, but they had this PA setup in this little bitty concrete classroom. I’m pretty sure they had no need for a PA in such a room, but they did, and the treble was turned all the way up. It was painfully loud. I wondered if the PA was broken, if no one knew how to operate an equalizer, or if this was the style, to play your music as loud as possible, or a bit of all three. It turned out the PA was Chinese, and all the labels on the knobs where in Chinese. Which is why they weren’t able to correctly tune the sound. Next time I’ll offer my assistance before the service. They had a 10 minute time when people gave testimonies of what God had done in their lives this week. I really liked that. I’m a big fan of the power of the personal story. One lady talked about how her daughter, who had been sick for a month, got better the day after her and the pastor prayed for her. I was also impressed with Luther’s desire to keep things on time. The church had much more of a charismatic flair than I am used to, as you’d expect in Africa, but Luther was the man in following God’s desire for order.

This church is located in Harbel, which is in the Firestone rubber plantation. I’m not a big fan of Firestone, and today didn’t make me like them anymore. The majority of the church members work for and live on the Firestone plantation. After the church service we had a baptism. They said it was going to be in the river. So I thought, “cool, a nice baptism in a cool tropical river.” It turned out to be a damned up river where everyone washes their clothes, and as best I could tell, where the sewer run-off goes; it was disgusting. Luther prayed that God would bless the water; I prayed that he would sterilize it. It just blew my mind that this is how these people live, and they find it acceptable to swim in such filth. It’s also revolting that an American company, that could easily afford to provide clean running water for it’s employees and proper sanitation, doesn’t. There’s no way they’d expect an American employee to live this way, and what’s the difference between an American and Liberian? I’d pay $10 more for a tire if I knew these people would be living an acceptable life. In Firestone’s defense, they do provide housing, schools, and a clinic for their employees, and their employees are the fortunate 20% of Liberians who have jobs, but Firestone still falls far short.

It was cool to see the baptism and the excitement of the people there. They kept singing “I Have Decided to Follow Jesus,” which was really cool. I’m a big fan of their prolific use of old hymns. No Passion CDs or talk of the latest David Crowder album here. They have some local songs that I’m sure I’d like if I could understand them. I really like old hymns.

The night before, at a party, I met a girl who’s boyfriend surfed. So after church I met up with them at Al Jehazi beach. Apparently, this is the beach to surf at. I met four other surfers there. The waves were pretty big, and I didn’t get up, which sucked, but it was still cool meeting other surfers. I’m hoping to surf with them more. In the pictures to the right you can see Sam catching a nice ride.

Saturday I went surfing at Thinker’s Village beach. In this picture, you can see me seconds before getting nailed.

In other news, I obtained by residency permit on Monday. I’m now able to live here for a year. I received a TRC ID card. Now I’m all official. And my first Ecobank checkbook arrived. At first, I wasn’t too impressed; the checks are just stapled together. But then I noticed that they do have holograms, so now I’m impressed. My Wachovia checks don’t have holograms.

This is a picture of the TRC public hearings in the Centennial Pavilion in downtown Monrovia just so you guys can get an idea of what they look like. This is the building where Liberians inaugurate their presidents.

John

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So last time I was here I lent $160 to my friend Anthony. He changes US dollars in the Liberian dollars and sells phone recharge cards. We got to talking one day and I asked what he would do if he had more money. He told me he’d buy a chain saw, go into the country, cut down trees, come back, and sell them. This is what Anthony did before the war. I asked how much that would be and he said he’d need about $300. This was a little high for the young Etherton Micro Bank, so I asked what he’d do with $100. He said he’d buy a generator and use it to charge phone batteries.

I liked this idea. Since there is no power plant in Liberia (Except the one Firestone owns) and no power lines, most people here don’t have power. Power, or “current” as the locals call it, only comes from generators. With cell phones being sold as cheap as $25 a large group of people can afford a phone but not a power source. Lots of people have already made a business out of this, so I was pleased to make the loan given such a proven business model.

We did a little investigating, and realized he would need a generator, power regulator (to keep the cheap generator from frying the phone charges), phone charges, extension cord, and two-stroke gas and oil. This came to about $160. So we wrote up a nice little contract and signed it.

This time around Anthony showed me what he had done with the money he’s earned so far. For starters Anthony has a savings account at the local Ecobank branch. And he’s bought a house. It’s still under construction, but he’s a land owner. I was pretty excited for him, he was pretty excited too. He told me when it was built I would have to come over to, “Share in the fruits”, of the loan. I told him I wanted $160 fruit.

Whether he pays the loan back in June or not, I think the money has been put to good use.

P.S. check out this CNN article on General Butt Naked who I met last week.