to town we go

i can be as guilty as the next traveller/expat of wanting to have a unique and 'authentic' experience when i am in a new country and yet i recognize that even seeking this out takes away its authenticity and leaves you constantly feeling as you didn't do enough, see enough, photograph enough.

and there are those instances that remind me that authentic experiences are authentic because they just happen.  and they just happen when you are open to them and others.

a bit trite, perhaps, but seems to hold true where ever i have been in the world.

yesterday was one of those 'authentic' days that i will likely cherish.  and largely because it felt so... normal.

motorcycle taxi driver (with sunglasses, of course!)

mary had agreed to take me to the waterside market in monrovia to buy lapas, the brightly printed (and ironically, printed in china) fabrics west africa is known for.  as much as i wanted to add to my collection and feed my addiction to fabric, i also wanted to hang out with mary and have her show me around town.

the first decision was how we would get there.  the shared taxis were an option, but we decided to spring for the motorcycle taxis at double the price because they are faster and a lot more comfortable, especially if you don't have to share one.  mary hailed them down and we got on.  she told me later that she was a little nervous when she couldn't see me, but she needn't worry as the only thing that i had to fend off was another motorcycle's passengers, two men who were fighting over talking to me every chance they got (in the middle of the road!).  it is times like these i need something that resembles a wedding ring in my back pocket.

bustling water street, with wheel barrows for hire

waterside is less of a market and more of a number of streets lined with vendors selling anything you need of your house.  much of the clothing and housewares were used, but there appeared to have been a large shipment of chinese shoes and they were laid out nicely for passersby to take a look.  the thought occurred to me a number of times that all those people at home who think donating t shirts and shoes to 'africa' are unaware they are being sold by the bundle and sold on the streets (in fact, there is a documentary made on this very topic: T Shirt Travels).

merry christmas!

it seemed as though mary knew a number of people around and we had to make several stops to say hello, but it turns out that she used to work there selling food so still knows many of the salespeople and shop owners.  i clearly stuck out, but didn't feel out of place or uncomfortable.  it is a pretty broad statement, but i have found monrovians very welcoming and kind to me.  but i would be lying if i said i was a lot less worried about getting lost or ripped off by having mary with me.

like much of the rest of the shops i have seen, many were owned by lebanese people.  we poked our heads into the ones selling lapas and i found 12 yards of fabric that i plan on using for sheets and cushions.  coincidentally, i got the number of a wonderful tailor today who can hopefully help me out because although learning how to sew (and quilt!) is something i would love to do, i am without a sewing machine.

it is tough to visualize what the fabric will look like as it is overwhelming to see so many patterns at once. and sometimes is very dim light while you are sweating buckets in the stuffy shops.  i picked out some more basic patterns although i might go back for the 'obama' print, which was rather lovely even if it did not have any images of obama on it at all.

in fact, there are some ma ellen prints i have seen around and like the nelson mandela cloth i bought in south africa, i might pick some up just for the laugh and memories of the time i am here.

lapas - the purpose of our journey

as i was unfolding and feeling all the fabric, mary was checking out the shoe selection and making sure my bags didn't get too heavy to carry.  one of my favourite parts of monrovia is the shop signs that are painted on the outer walls of buildings.  i hope to gain more confidence in bringing my camera along to take more photos next time i go to town, but this time i just took some snaps on my phone (which, by the way, have you downloaded the camera+ app yet?! amazing.)

after a wander around, we caught more motorcycle taxis on the way back.  this time, my driver was a shyster and made us pay too much and since we had two drivers, the second being a honest guy, i paid him the same exorbitant rate that the first demanded before taking my money, refusing to give change, and driving off.  i have no idea if he thought he could rip us off because of where he dropped us off, who he was carrying, or just because he was an ass, but neither mary nor i were impressed.  we were also nearly melting so we didn't bother too much and came inside to share a can of coke (which is still one of the most refreshing beverages when it is so hot out!).

this is what i look like on the back of a motorcycle taxi,
if ever you wondered

the week ahead

after my complaining about having a houseguest (who is a marvellous cook, i do admit), i will be spending the next week on my own in the big city of monrovia.

truth be told, i wish i was also heading out to the field to see more of the country, but instead i will be making the most of my time.  i have found a few shops that i want to check out: afropolitan and Jola House Creations and i'd like to take a trip to waterfront market to buy some lapas, but am a bit nervous to go alone partly because i have no idea how much anything should cost and partly because i envision it being a cacophonous and seemingly chaotic place.  i could be entirely wrong, but may enlist mary's help to navigate it.

one of the challenges to life in monrovia for me is that there are few options for transportation and i feel as though i can't be as independent as i'd like.  we don't have a car, although i recently learned that we could have one if someone had renewed his license (and knew how to drive standard...).  the yellow shared taxis that ply the roads are seemingly ubiquitous, but also come with a queue of people ready to fight their way to squeeze into the car doors and i'm not sure how exactly payment or the system works, which will cause me quite a bit of stress.

there are the motorcycle taxis, driven by young men often with a version of trendy (and sometimes lens-less) sunglasses regardless of the time of day.  the un security briefing includes a prohibition against using these, but we tried them out on the weekend and i must admit that it was a much more pleasant way to come home after a day in the city than being stuck to the synthetic seats of a dilapidated taxi.  very breezy and rather exhilarating, if not a bit dangerous.

the typical mode of transportation i use is a car service operated by 5 guys.  their cars are not always so reliable, as we found out while we were stuck for an hour this past weekend, but they are very friendly and a great resource about all things liberian.  they tend to be available when you call, but it means that you have to hire them for short journeys or by the hour.  and when i am in a shop knowing someone is waiting for me, i can't help but rush through my shopping.  i think that this is something that i will just have to get used to otherwise i will spend the next few months rushing about and worrying about how long i am taking.  the other downside is that if you just want to wander about and catch a taxi home, you can't.  i either plan a pick up time or location or call them and hope they are free to collect me when i'm ready.

after my week of living like a bachelorette again, i will be packing my own bags to head to dar es salaam, tanzania to celebrate christmas on the other coast of africa.  let the countdown begin!

early (temporary) retirement

i was guilty of asking friends who were not working at home 'what do you do all day?' as though it would be a struggle to fill your days with activities that had to be done and those you wanted to do.  i figured that it must be boring not to be busy, a daytimer full of appointments and to do lists, and a social calendar with other people working full time, regular hours.

and now when people ask me if i get bored without having a full time job or what i do with myself all day, i am sort of surprised because the answer seems so obvious.  i read, i lay by the pool, i grocery shop, i visit with our housekeeper, i cook, i play angry birds, i check facebook and twitter, i send emails, i apply for jobs, i go for walks, i edit photos, i go for lunch, i do yoga, i watch tv series i've always wanted to see, i work out, i get massages and pedicures at home.  but only for a few moments this past month have i felt bored.

i have felt some pangs of guilt that i am not working, not being productive, and not building the years and breadth of experience on my cv.  but then i reminded myself that people generally spend their entire careers waiting to retire and live the life i am living right now.

and it won't last.  come march, i will likely have to get a job either in liberia or wherever someone will hire me and then i remember what it feels like to squeeze in a run after rushing home from the office or wake up to an alarm everyday or not having time to fit all my friends and family in.  i am in no hurry to get back into the regular workforce and a crammed schedule so i am genuinely enjoying my time.  i just wish that people understood that when they ask me what i possibly DO all day!

now if you'll excuse me, i have another episode of Mad Men, the next chapter of The Hunger Games, and a swimming pool all calling my name.

we are frying, oh!

i was all ready to declare my first liberian cooking lesson a success and then the boyfriend had to go and get sick after eating what my housekeeper and i cooked up.  but i have felt fine ever since so i am still going with the idea that it was a success, but i might include a disclaimer in all future kitchen endeavours.

it is not that i can't cook, i just have no idea what to do with all the greens in the market here.  and i can still count the number of times i have cooked chicken on one hand (three, if you are wondering).  but i am getting better at eating it (it was served a lot on my recent trip to morocco), so there's that.

mary, my housekeeper extraordinaire (and you will recall, currently my closest friend in monrovia) wanted to teach me to cook and had offered to go and buy what we needed at the market.  i figured it was a good opportunity to get a tour of the market so i asked if i could come with her, which she thought was a grand idea and off we went.

i thought our project would be cut short immediately after leaving my house and seeing the opposition party march going down the main street in protest of the recent elections and to mourn their dead from clashes with police a few weeks ago.  i looked at mary as if to inquire on the security of us wandering through the hundreds of people and she, a proud ma ellen supporter, didn't seem concerned so on we carried on amongst the chanting and yelling and shuffling throngs.  in fact, mary thought it might be a good photo opportunity, but i am still shy about whipping out my camera (slr or iphone).

the market is a huge building jammed with stuff and things and bits and bobs.  in amongst the kitchen items, there is a small produce section.  here are your choices: palm nuts, cassava leaf, potato leaf, collared greens, yams, onions, garlic, banana, plantain.  none of which i know what to do with.

mary and i had previously agreed that she'd teach me how to make collared greens so that is what we bought and had the woman in the market cut them up small, small for us with her giant (and incredibly sharp) knife.

after picking up some seasoning, a basin to wash and massage the greens, and onions, we headed back home where mary unceremoniously butchered a frozen chicken on my countertop.  i noticed she kept all the trimmings to take home with her, but otherwise all the chicken bits when into the oil.  my job was to watch her and ask questions and take photos (often at her request).

we fried the chicken with some onion and added the greens into the pot while mary sang 'we are frying, oh!'  in went the seasoning, tomato paste, chiles and then i manned the greens with instructions from mary not to stir too much and add water occasionally.  she got on with making the rice and soon, our meal was complete.

it tasted better than any west african food i have had before and it received positive reviews (apart from the upset stomach...) and was a fun process.  next up, a field trip with mary to the larger market in town.