Wednesday, May 10, 2017

24 January 2017: Liberia- Bahn

                I had debated whether to go back to Duoplay with Milea or bounce around with other PCVs. On one hand, I had only my camera and one change of clothes, but on the other hand, I had pretty much exhausted all the excitement of Duoplay. The choice was clear. I would have dirty clothes, but I would have an adventure. But, honestly, what else is new? I said goodbye to Milea until we would meet up again at someone else’s house in a week. With the help of some map-drawing expertise from the other Nimba County PCVs, I had a map and a route all planned for the next week. My next stop would be a town called Bahn.

My guide to Nimba for the next week, including towns, who lived there, and the transport cost

                We all left Abigail’s house in Sanniquellie, and I piled in a car with a few new buddies going the same direction, Trey, Thomas, and Ike, who happened to be the very people I would spend the week with. Our first quick stop was to the checkpoint outside of town. There are these checkpoints outside of every major town that you have to stop at, and some of them double as immigration posts. I got out and went into the office asking to get my 30 day stamp, which I was told that I could get at any immigration checkpoint when I first crossed into Liberia. They wouldn’t stamp me because my 15-day stamp was still not close to expiring. Guess I’d have to try again in a few days. We continued on the bump-tastic road. These roads apparently get 100 times worse in the rainy season. Some of the roads are so bad, it feels like your teeth are gonna jiggle right out of your mouth. Anyway, after replacing an inevitable flat tire, we made it to the next major town of Ganta. There, we got lunch and then checked out the gas station grocery stores. Outside of the capital, the only things remotely resembling grocery stores are actually inside of gas stations. Whereas in the US, gas station stores are usually more limited, here the gas stations have the widest variety of stuff. We also went to an electronics store where one of the other PCVs Ike was buying a battery and big solar panel for a solar setup at his house.
                From there, we got plenty of room in a big van that took us to Bahn. Ike left for his site, his battery strapped to the back of a motorbike and him holding his solar panel sandwiched between him and the driver. Hopefully he wouldn’t be caught by a gust of wind and sail away with that thing. I would be staying with Trey in Bahn, and we started out with a small tour of the town. We wandered around and saw the different shops, his school, and we even met his landlord who was sitting in front of the new bar she just opened. We went to the street food ladies and got some pig meat (they don’t call it “pork” or “beef” here- it’s pig meat, cow meat, chicken meat, etc.), some plantains, and some sweet potatoes for dinner. Trey normally had current, as he was hooked up to the common generator that powered a few houses, but it was out due to the generator being broken, so we just sat and talked in the pitch dark.
                The next day, we went to Trey’s school where he taught chemistry and biology. We started out in 10th grade with some obligatory time-wasting, having the kids ask me questions, which they were pretty shy about at first. The excitement level perked up when one of them asked how old I was, and it quickly turned into a fun, spitfire round of “guess my age!” After watching Trey teach about the periodic table, I went back in the direction of his house to find his landlord, who was coincidentally also one of the immigration officers for the town. I intercepted her on the road, and at that time the immigration commander happened to be riding by. She flagged him down and he came over to talk. We decided that since I’d be passing the checkpoint the next day to go to a different town, I’d just do it then. The commander also tried to say something about it costing $10 to get the stamp. I just gave him the side eye and explained that, no, it was free, and that I’d already paid a buttload for the Liberian visa. He shrugged and said OK. Man, if these people want bribes, they sure don’t put up much of a fight convincing you that these fictitious fees are real.

The school

                It also happened to be Bahn’s market day, so I wandered through the bamboo stalls of lappa cloths, different foods, raw meat surrounded by clouds of flies, clothes, and other random items. I bought some lappa and some sunglasses, some very necessary purchases. I went back to school and hung around outside the staff room. Some 12th graders came up to me to talk, and when they learned I used to be a PCV and taught math, they asked me to help them with a math review packet. Before I knew it, I was in a classroom teaching a whole class full of 12th graders during their free period. How do I always end up accidentally teaching? Trey told me that, a few days later after I had left, they were asking him “Where’s our Peace Corps?” referring to me. What was he, chopped liver? Hah.

The teachers wanted a photo with me


Side note: Here, they call the individual volunteers a “Peace Corps,” like “The Peace Corps who lives in Duoplay,” whereas in Lesotho we always went by PCV, Peace Corps Volunteer, or just Volunteer, to avoid confusion with the organization at large. 

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