Liberia is doing well. Seku Toure Avenue had finally been paved. There are big billboards up advertising the off shore  oil explanation that’s going on. Chevron has a big office in Monrovia as they look for oil. I remember one Liberian, when I still lived in Liberia, talking about the curse resources are for a county that can’t handle them, saying, “Let’s pray they don’t find oil here.”

In other news the surfing was great. After a 7 month hiatus I caught my first wave and a friend was there on the beach to catch the action. I was only in town for a week, so theSaturday before I left we headed out to Robertsport. The swell that day was big, and only grew as the day went on. Unfortunately my shoulder didn’t hold out for the bigger waves, so I got to watch my friends tear them up. For example, see Keith Chapman destroying that massive beast at right.

Finally, my friend Yoscha has started a makeshift zoo at the Kendeja  hotel. It started off with saving some baby leather back turtles, then saving some more turtles, then an alligator, and now three dygers. It’s pretty cool. Nothing like getting off a plane for 15 hours and then immediately holding an alligator.

A while back Keith Chapman, Kent Bubbs, and I were surfing at Kenedja  when President Sirleaf was there. Ellen brought along her all female Indian peace keepers to maintain law and order. They were taking pictures of us surfing, so Kent got this awesome shot of Keith and I with them.

I sent it in to Surfer’s Journal and they published it on their blog here:

http://www.surfersjournal.com/journal_entry/what-kind-men-read-tsj

Harper was one of the original cities founded by freed American slaves and has a lot of lovely southern United States influenced architecture. That along with some lovely beaches, and a point or two makes Harper a wonderful destination for a few in-country tourists. We were hoping to just relax in the city, and hopefully discover some new surf spots.

The road to Harper is notorious for being a huge muddy mess. It often becomes completely impassible in the rainy season. But we thought we’d come in the middle of dry season and miss all of that. Boy we’re we wrong.

The problem is a lack of drainage. A puddle of mud forms on the road and then a big 20 ton transport truck drives over it and pushes it down. This makes a little rut. Then another and another. Then after a while the little mud spot is now 6 feet deep “rutt” and even more water and mud have collected in the bottom of it. Then it gets so bad that someone cuts a bypass around that, but then the same thing happens, and the bypass turns into mud and water. As you can see from the picture on the right. These ruts got pretty deep. Here we’re digging out my 4Runner, code named Midnight. The tire ruts were so deep that my suspension was scraping the middle of the “road” and with the low traction I wasn’t able to move forward.

Things started off pretty easy. At first we just encountered low spots in the road with lots of water. Hear on the right you can see Andrew navigating his Xterra, code named Lorma Girl, through a small puddle. However things quickly escalated to 100 yard long ruts full of mud the consistency of oatmeal. On the left is Lorma Girl stuck in a massive rut. On this rut, I had opted to take the incredibly steep bypass to get around it. I’m still kicking myself for not taking a picture of my car scrambling up a 60 degree incline. Andrew opted for the slightly more traditional route and we eventually pushed and pulled him out.

All was well for us until we got about 40 miles south of Kanweaken That’s when we encountered this transport truck stuck in the mud. The truck had been stuck there for over 2 days. What’s more mind numbing is that this vehicle had succeeded in blocking all other traffic on the road. As we pulled up 3 transport trucks and a pick-up were waiting to continue south, and another pick-up was waiting to head north. As we walked up the drivers and passengers in the other vehicles told us to “get out your mats” and take a nap, because it would be a while. The pick-up truck heading north, had been stuck behind the transport truck for a day and a half. A day and a half! Thankfully we were North Americans (Andrew and Elena are Canadian) with a “if it’s not the way you want it, change it” attitude. So we changed it.

We surveyed the situation, decided that the West side of the road was best for a bypass and set to work filling in the mud with dirt, rocks, and bamboo we had cut down. This inspired the captain of the north bound pick-up, who sent his men over to help us dig. Then this inspired the other crews to start building their own road on the other side. After and hour or so of digging and chopping, armed only with two shovels, 3 machetes, and a pick axe, we were across. That was it, that’s all it took, unbelievable. These people had just been sitting there for a day and half. We worked for an hour.

At the risk of being ever so slightly politically incorrect, I’d like to say that this little incident perfectly illustrates what’s wrong with Africa. A problem arises and everyone stops, pulls out their mats and takes a nap. Then some white people show up. These good intentioned, underfunded folks fix the problem just enough to last for them to use it twice, and then leave. Meanwhile, an equally underfunded and unsustainable effort is underway, completely duplicating the other project. I’m not saying why it is this way, or how it got to be such a problem, I’m just saying, that’s the problem. I suppose for this to be a completely accurate analogy I’d have to work in a corruption angle. Anyway…

After that things only got worse and worse. We went through several unbelievably long and muddy ruts. You can see from this picture at the left how deep some of them were. This picture was taken as I stood on the side of the road.  I could literally just walk straight across the top of the car to the other side.

For me the worst part came when after 6 hours of plowing through mud we came to a spot we would later dub “The Triple Header” since it was three amazingly muddy sections all in a row. On the 2nd section Matt Cramer, who scouted out the sections and then relayed his findings back to the drivers via walkie talkies, informed me that I needed to back-up and shoot for the middle entrance to the section. It was pitch black, my windows and mirrors were all covered in mud. I knew Andrew was behind me so I backed up keeping an eye on him over my right shoulder, then BAM. I didn’t even know what I had hit. It was dark and I thought there was just road behind me. Turns out it was a abandoned transport truck. Thankfully, I did no damage to it at all. Sadly, I did total deform the rear drivers side of Midnight, and I busted out two of her windows. It did put a damper on things after that.

Minus smashing up my car, the driving was a lot of fun. The progression went from, “Awesome, some mud.” To, “seriously, the road is still getting worse.” And finally, “Bring it on!” By the end of it I had my technique down. 4 low, cause there’s no point in given it less than all you’ve got and getting stuck in 4 high. Gently, yet quickly, depress the gas peddle till the engine soars to 4000RPMs, then your off. Pretty much keep the wheels pointed in the direction of the rut, when you start to slide steer in the direction of the slide, but then back off when you start to straighten out. When you have to jump from one rut to another over steer into it and then quickly correct. Perhaps one of the best compliments I received on the trip was from an elderly Liberian gentlemen we had picked up outside of Fishtown. After I took the high revving, mud slinging, car bouncing, inaugural drive through our newly constructed road he came up to me with a huge smile on his face and said, “Ahh, you good driver.”

We arrived in Harper, 12 hours after departing, tired, very dirty, but safe, and happy. The good people at the Carter Center were kind enough to let us stay at their incredibly accommodating compound in Harper. I hope Laurie, their Harper office manager, is enjoying the bottle of Champagne we left for her in the fridge. We spent a lot of time, sleeping, reading, and relaxing in hammocks on the back porch. It was a great place to just hang out and enjoy having nothing to do.

Like I said we, or at least Matt and I, were hoping to find some new waves to surf. Unfortunately, the waves just weren’t there. We found some wonderful looking spots, but the swell just wasn’t happening. However, we did find some unbelievably lovely beaches. Like Fish Town beach, shown on the left. This is the first beach I’ve been to in Liberia where the water was calm and shallow 100′ out. Usually in Liberia you take 3 steps in and the water is up to your neck. The beaches are normally very steep, but this was anything but. It was also very pristine, as far as you could see there were no buildings, villages, clearings, anything, just water, sand, and palm trees.

Also at Fish Town was Skeleton Island. A few hundred feet from the beach is a small little island, maybe an acre or so big, where they put their dead. But they just leave the coffins above ground on the island. This makes for some rather macabre sites when you arrive on shore. Someone told me that they used to put the bodies there during the war, but I’m not sure why they still do it, and what really started it.

We also took advantage of being so close to Cote D’ Ivoire and popped over on market day. We didn’t have visas but decided to give it a try. The Liberian immigration officer was very nice to us. He asked us what we wanted to do, looked us over, and told us, “sure, just leave the cars.” He even let us park the cars close to his office so they’d be safe. Which was good since I was missing a couple of windows. So we hired a canoe and paddled across the river. Then the Ivorian immigration guys cared even less. He seemed totally uninterested in us white people. Which is strange, usually boarder crossings are a pain, and we didn’t even have the right papers. Anyway. We hung out for a while. The market wasn’t much but we did drink some Ivorian beer which was a nice change of pace. Cramer, met some nice Liberian ladies who were also there for market day and quickly made friends.

The trip back was pretty good. We took the advice of some locals and took the Karloken to Kanweaken bypass. We still had to go through the Triple Header again, but after that we missed a lot of nastiness, and the road was even a little shorter. Don’t ask why we didn’t do this the first time. Here is a little video montage of our 4WD exploits with some cometary.

I’d also like to take this time to talk about what worked and what didn’t work on the trip. Consider this a little product review of must haves, and must leave behinds for intense off-roading, on roads in developing countries. What broke: My expensive off roading Old Man Emu shock absorber. The bolt on the top where the shock attaches to the frame totally sheared off. This made for a very bouncy ride home. I had to be gentle with Midnight over those bumpy roads or else her back end would just swing out. Also we had a fair bit of over heating. Here Matt and I are pouring more water into the radiator. It seemed that caked on mud had a lot to do with it, but the problem persisted even after a few good cleanings. The 4WD system on the 4Runner. I got stuck in a really small bit of mud coming back from Fish Town and realized my front wheels weren’t spinning. After some Googling on my phone using Lonestar’s GPRS service we figured that the 4Runner had a pneumatically actuated front differential that engaged the front wheels and that, that was the problem.  But Googling on my phone wasn’t super fast or fun, so I called my dad in the states who Googled around some more and then based on his research suggested we switch the suction lines on the pneumatic actuator. Much to my surprise this worked. We just left 4×4 engaged from Harper to Zwedru. No point in taking chances. The brakes also took some intense wear. It seems the 4Runner has a metal plate around the front disc brakes to protect them, instead this just trapped rocks and mud in there and tore up the brake pads. Midnight is currently at No Lemon. Right now I’m just hoping the bill is under a thousand, cause I still have to pay for the body work.

We had 4 Midland GXT1050 walkie talkies with us. They were great for inter car communication, and coordinating our assaults on the rutts, but the chargers didn’t seem to hold the walkie talks tight enough for charging while on the road. I had a pair of Hela spot lights mounted to the front bumper, they were donated by Nick Conway, a friend back in the states. They were absolutely great for the night driving that we shouldn’t have done, but had no choice to do. I was also impressed with my Asolo boots. They were totally covered in mud, but my feet and socks were dry and clean. Also the wicking north face pants, and REI shirt I had were great. Depsite the heat, I recommend long pants for such trips, you’re gonna get dirty. Also the generic tow rope, shovels, machetes, bottles of water, and 2.5 million candle power flashlight were must haves. Andrew had a Wern winch that was super handy for pulling out other people, though we never needed it on our own cars.

And that’s about it,

John.

Then the weekend after a few of us went on an exploratory surf trip to Buchanan in Grand Bassa County. Buchanan is about 2 and half hours away from Monrovia. The road there is paved, but it’s so tore up that you have to drive super slow to not hit every pot hole. It’d be better if it wasn’t paved and just smoothed out by the occasional grader or something. I had heard rumors that they fixed the road. These were not true.

We never found the beach were we’re supposed to. The directions we had said go to the end of the road. We had an in car discussion about what constituted the “end of the road”, and whether the people who wrote the directions were as “hardcore” as we were when defining the end of the road. In our quest for the end we took a sweet jungle by-pass to get around a tractor that was stuck in the middle of a one lane trail along the coast. It was sweet; we were literally driving through the jungle. I love moments like that. Sadly, I got my first flat tire in Africa from this little off-road jaunt.

Finally, after trekking for several minutes off the main road, we arrived at this amazing little village next to a river that let out to the ocean, it was beautiful. Unfortunately, the waves weren’t super great. We did have a fair bit of fun riding the class 1 rapids from the river into the ocean and then riding waves back into the river, just to get pushed back again. That was pretty cool, but took a lot of work to time it right.

In some more technical happenings, my crack squad of research assistants (RAs) and I did some major work to rebuild the wooden enclosure of the MObile Story Exchange System, or MOSES. The old enclosure was designed to be bullet proof. It housed our most important project and so needed to be strong. It also weighed 100lbs, took up all the space in the 4Runner, and had to be plugged in. So we redid a few things. The new system now comes in two halves. The bottom half is the power pack that houses two 12 volt 80amp deep cycle batteries hooked up in parallel and a 1500watt inverter/charger.  To date we’ve never run out of juice and have run for over 8 hours, it’s a thing of beauty. The top half contains an audio amplifier, two 6″x9″ speakers, the laptop MOSES runs on and the Plexiglas panel that the 19″ LCD is bolted too. The new system is much lighter (though the batteries weigh a lot) can easily fit in the back of the 4Runner, and doesn’t need power. It’s great. People at the TRC, where we built it, have told me, “Thanks for the hard work.” I think that’s the Liberian way of saying, “Nice work.”  Since I didn’t really do the hard work for them, and secretly, I really liked getting to use power tools again. My favorite part was getting the drill bits out of the drill for my RAs. The drill was made to be tightened and loosened by hand, but the RAs were hesitant to rev the drill and pop out the drill bit. Special thanks to Matt Cramer and Andrew Tyler for loaning me the tools.

Finally I got the first ticket of my life in Monrovia. I was on Broad street heading west at the Randal Street intersection.  I wanted to do a U-turn and as usual there was the normal crazy traffic, in which you wait your turn, edge forward and then either take your turn or wait for someone to let you in. But instead of pulling up past the little, I don’t even know what to call it, the thing the police stand on in the middle of the intersection to direct traffic, and then turning, I just started to turn. I had pulled about a foot forward when I noticed the cop, who had just noticed me and stood up to direct traffic and stop me. Then he realized I was white and waved me forward. He gave me a lecture about how that was illegal, I should have gone past the police stand.

I knew he was right, and that I was just being lazy with my driving. I didn’t want to “compromise” AKA bribe him to not give me a ticket. In fact, we even had a little tift where I was pointing out why compromising isn’t the way to go and he said, “But why this is Africa, you can’t change Africa”, and I looked him straight in the face and said, “I can try.” I don’t think he liked that very mcuh.One of my friends told me next time I get the, “this is Africa” line I should ask if they like their African salary, or African benefit package, if we should keep the 300 LD (5 USD) bribes, and the 100USD a month salaries. Well, I went with the usual call their bluff since they can’t write tickets and insist on a ticket stategy. To my amzement the commanding officer on the scene had a ticket book. This is defenitly a step forward, though still needs a little polish. For instance I was sited for “wreckless driving” and not obey the directing officer, who wasn’t directing anything till he saw a white man. I also got slapped with a $1500 LD, $25 USD. The cop that pulled me over said, “be nice to my friend and give him one thousand-five.” I’m pretty sure he was really saying, “show this guy he can’t change Africa, charge him a lot”. Everyone I talked to, Liberian and expat, said that was too much. Still beats the ticket price in America, though in America I would have just waited for my light to turn green, and we don’t put crap that you have to drive around in the middle of our intersections.

Paying the ticket was surprisingly pleasant. I had to go to the Ministry of Finance, pay the ticket, then take the receipt to the police station. The nice ladies in the ticket department were very helpful and had everything processed in a matter of minutes. To ensure that I paid my ticket the ticketing officer took my dirver’s license, and again I was amazed that they had it there waiting for me. So law and order is, slowly, coming back to Liberia.

Now onto some old business, Barack Obama became the president of America, and this was a very exciting time for people here. A large group of Americans and caring internationals gathered at the Krystal Ocean View hotel to watch the inauguration. A lot of Liberians were very excited. Everyone that was anyone had their Barack Obama t-shirt on

Not to be outdone by Americans, back in America a couple of true patriots threw an inaugural ball here. They hired the band from Garden Cafe which was a great choice. Those guys played all the latest hits, as well as some classics. As they night whined down they let Amy Kirkwood play guitar while I played bass. I haven’t played bass in a long time, so I enjoyed the chance to play. It was also nice surprising my friends with a hidden talent. Thankfully Amy played the only 2 songs I know how to play, Sweet Home Alabama and Steve Miller’s the Joker.

As part of my research duties I toured the Nancy Doe Market on 5th street in Sinkor. As you can see this is no ordinary African market. This 3 story concrete structure gives the market ladies (and a few guys) shade and a safe place to setup shop. You can find pretty much everything here, from the peppers pictured below, to rice, oil, and even the African version of Tupperware.

Finally we come to the issue of traffic. The past couple of weeks Chinese contractors have been painting the lines on the newly paved roads. While this is great news, especially when trying to decide what lane you’re in at night; it has caused some of the worst traffic I’ve ever seen. While it lacks the awe inspiring glory of a 16 lane parking lot in Atlanta, the halting of Monrovia’s only thoroughfare through town completely incapacitates the city.

This is only made worse by government employees, who are a little over zealous about getting to work on time, hoping over and driving in the wrong lane. Twice I’ve nearly had head on collisions with people who think they really need to be on time. Which is interesting, given that Liberia is not known for being punctual? I understand the President and Vice President have certain security concerns to worry about, so they get to drive in my lane of traffic, but it’s a little dangerous to the rest of us when every other government big wig comes flying around the corner in my lane. Hopefully, this will stop once the traffic resumes its usual level of chaos.

Another change I’ve observed lately, that could possibly be related to the improved waves, is the weather. It’s been… almost cold. The other night I was beginning to almost start to regret wearing shorts. I drove home with the windows down and heater on. Kinda like what I would do in October in Atlanta. It was fantastic. The mornings have also been nice and… not hot. So that’s been very nice. It’s kinda like winter… sorta.

These two pics are me surfing in Robertsport. Again, not the biggest waves, but good clean fun none the less.

One of the notable things that has happened recently was the full moon party at Nana’s Lodge in Robertsport. Back in October Leah and I were talking about the lack of beach parties in a country with amazing beaches. So we decided to have one. We continued to talk and decided that what we needed was not just a party but an all inclusive weekend. So we talked to Musa, co-owner of Nana’s Lodge. We asked if we brought him 50 people paying $100 for all you can eat and drink for a night and two days if he could take care of the rest. Knowing a good deal when he sees one, Musa said yes. After further discussion we decided that 10% of the proceeds should go to a local charity in Robertsport. We didn’t want it to look like a bunch of white people were just partying it up for no good reason. So we gave $500 to the St. John’s Episcopal High School reconstruction fund.

We got to take a tour of the school and it was amazing. It was one of those few places you go to in Liberia and realize how nice the country was before the war came and ruined it for everyone. I hope the money will go far towards restoring the place to its original beauty. In this picture you can see the old church building on the school campus.

My favorite part of the party was the midnight moon light surf. I’m told that we picked the brightest full moon in the last 25 years for our party. So surfing at night was a lot of fun. The best part was that the water was so clear. We could see our shadows on the sand below as we floated over in the water with just the moon light. It was so amazing. One of those moments everything is so amazing it makes you wana believe in God.

Christmas has also happened since I last wrote. A mass exodus of expats occurred, but me, and a brave few, remained behind to hold down the fort. Christmas in Liberia was pretty nice. It was hot and sunny like every day here, so it didn’t feel at all like Christmas. Things quieted down a little and it was nice to relax at Christmas instead of running around from event to event. I spent Christmas day at my friend Christy’s apartment with my roommate Vishal, Leah, the people form Orphan Relief and Rescue, and Jacob and Keith, who do health work here. We had brunch, which seems to be very much in style amongst expats in Monrovia. Vishal and I headed out for a Christmas day surf.

In celebration of Christmas Monrovia decked the halls, or at least decked a few sidewalks and street lights. The street lights were quite impressive. As you can see from this picture on the left, lights were strung from light pole to light pole in front of the executive mansion. Lights also graced Broad Street and the bridge to Bushrod Island. It was beautiful. While it does seem kinda like a waste of money while people are hungry, laying in dilapidated hospitals, and standing in class rooms with no chairs, but it is a very nice sign of progress and hope. Not long ago the Liberian Electric Company (LEC) wasn’t operational, now they can power Christmas lights. Not bad.

Right down the street from the mansion, at UN Drive and Camp Johnson road, was this wonderful display of Christmas tackiness. How a mechanical dancing Santa made it to Liberia is beyond me. I’m just glad that this isn’t how the government chose to show its Christmas spirit.

In this picture flat mate Vishal and I are giving our security guards their Christmas present. We bought a 50kg bag of rice for the day shift, and one for the night shift. I think that made us their favorite tenants. We also gave our maid the week off. I don’t think she really understood it at the time, I don’t think she’s used to taking a Christmas holiday. I also realized later that she probably thought we were trying to get rid of her with out giving her a gift. So we called her up and had her come back over and take the first crack at the bag of rice. She seemed happy after that.

A lot of Liberians asked me for “my Christmas.” Another popular saying was “my Christmas on you-O.” While I do like to help those I can, the entitlement that people asked with really bothered me, especially when people who I’ve already helped a lot were asking me for their cut. It was obvious that it wasn’t about friendship or being nice to the ones you love, it was about them getting something out of me. Granted, they live on the edge of absolute poverity and starvation, so they have every reason to take advantage of any situation that presents itself, but just the way they go about it, is so… not enticing. I’d really like it if one low income Liberian would get it, and figure out that they’ll do so much better if they really are my friend.

But all in all it’s been pretty darn good, and I’m blessed enough this holiday season to give out a few “my Christmases” to people.

The roads in Freetown are much nicer than those in Monrovia. Granted, we didn’t go to some of the more run down parts of the city, but the major roads were notably lacking in potholes compared to the major roads in Monrovia. The run down parts of Monrovia aren’t even paved. At one point Jeff was talking with an expat in Freetown about the roads to Liberia. She went to great lengths to emphasize how bad they were. To which Jeff replied, “But you made it through right? So they can’t be that bad.” She then replied, “No, they were really bad.” Jeff lives in Harper in Liberia. Right now, in the rainy season, no automobile can drive to Harper, the roads are that bad. Thus, Jeff and I concluded that “bad roads” in Liberia and Sierra Leone mean different things. To the right is a picture of some of the wonderful roads in Freetown and in the background the green hills that the city is built on the side of. I really liked the hills, having all that vegetation in plain site on the hills helps to remind you that you’re in what should be a tropical paradise.  While Freetown is a step up from Monrovia it’s still a little under developed. To the left is a picture of another thing I really liked about Freetown, street signs, again something rarely seen in Monrovia.

Another great part of Freetown was the architecture of the buildings, as seen from these two examples. Sierra Leone used to be a British colony at one point, and you can still see their influence in the structures they left behind. The building on the right is of the Justice Ministry. The one on the left is just some building I really liked. I’m sure it’s more important than that, but I’d just be making stuff up if I tried to guess its importance.

Another novelty Jeff and I enjoyed in Freetown was the public Library. As of yet I haven’t seen a public Library in Monrovia. There may be one, I just haven’t seen it. At any rate Jeff and I were way exited to sit and read for a bit. Naturally I found a mid spring 2008 Popular Science. I was really impressed that they had such an intelligent piece of literature. I caught up on the latest gadgets that wouldn’t work in Liberia because we don’t have power there. We stayed at the Library for a good 3 hours. It was wonderful.

One of the best parts of our time in Freetown was staying at the Faduma Guest house.  The owner was a guy named Stone who worked for the Sierra Leonean department of corrections teaching fine arts to those spending their days behind bars. Stone was a very nice host. One day a young man was over to negotiate for his daughter. He was so excited he gave Jeff and I a free beer, what a guy. Stone was also a big fan of American politics. So much so that the night Barack Obama gave his speech at the DNC, Stone woke us up at 2:00am so we could all watch the speech. It was pretty cool seeing people in other countries so excited about American politics… in a positive way. This is much different than the time I came up from a French subway in the middle of an anti-Bush protest.  Stone would watch American news and verbalize his agreement with Obama and Bidden’s speeches. He even talked with us about how ridiculous of a choice Palin is. It was a lot of fun talking with him. To the right is a picture of my room at the Faduma Guest House. The guest house is located at N8.48398, W13.26993.

Other highlights included the public park at the center of town and the many seafood dinners we had. A picture of the park is on the left.  Again, public parks like this are something that don’t exist in Monrovia. The picture on the right is the Hard Rock Restaurant. The restaurant is located on a large, hard rock at the beach.

John

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So at 1:00 I met up with Keith and Peter for a quick lunch break surf at Thinker’s Village. I hadn’t been to Thinkers in a while so I was shocked to see how much of the beach had been eroded. Several of their concrete palava huts were now lost to the see. It was crazy.

Anyway… The waves were small, but if you waited long enough a 3′ or 4′ wave would come by. We all had a few good rides. Towards the end of the day the wind picked up and the waves started to really suck. But, I can’t complain. I couldn’t think of a better way to spend lunch.

John

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