The First Few Days

Monrovia, Liberia West Africa  Feb 10, 2013

So this is the beginning of my adventure of returning to Liberia to work for a few months.  Its also the beginning of my first attempt at blogging and I have to say that I'm not finding this interface intuitive, so this start may be a little shakey but hopefully things will get smoother as I practice.

Why a tale of two cities?  On one level it has to do with my love of two places --  Honolulu, Hawaii and Monrovia, Liberia.  Two vastly different locals literally half way around the world from each other.  Maybe I'll say more about that later.

On another level though it is a tale of two cities because my life in Monrovia will be lived in two vastly different adjacent and intertwined places.  On one hand Liberia is a place of dire financial poverty.  Index Mundi ranks Liberia at #225 out of 226 countries with a per capita gross domestic product of $500. (Only the Democratic Republic of the Congo ranks lower at $400.  The United States ranks #12 at $49,000 and Liechtenstein ranks #1 at $141,100).  Yet on the other hand it is also a place where money can flow like water among the legions of diplomats, NGO and humanitarian workers, missionaries and high level government officials.  So on the streets of Monrovia one sees air conditioned luxury all terrain vehicles, Mercedes and Beamers mixing it up with dilapidated, bald tired, duct taped, gerry-rigged and rope repaired cars and trucks of every description, filled to overflowing with human and other cargo, on severely potholed, often unpaved roads.  Why anyone would want a BMW sports roadster in this place could only be an expression of ostentation and arrogance perhaps.  Hey, but now I'm beginning to be judgmental and I don't want that.  Let me try to be a reporter of observations and experiences.   You judge for yourself

Red Light, Paynesville, Monrovia, Liberia

Red Light, Paynesville, Monrovia, Liberia

Red Light, Paynesville, Monrovia, Liberia
Note the tape and cellophane on the back window of the taxi

Along Tubman Boulevard, Sinkor, Monrovia, Liberia

5th Street Sinkor right off Tubman Boulevard

BMW Roadster in driveway on Tubman a few blocks from 5th Street

Mercedes and all terrain SUV in driveway on Tubman

So I get a note from my nephew Chris asking me if I'm experiencing any 'culture shock' upon my arrival here.  With apologies to Chris, I'd would like to share my response to him with a wider audience:

"Hi Chris,  I'm starting a blog that I think I am going to call 'a tale of two cities', because of the disparity, no, the absolute chasm between the poverty I see here among 80% or 90% of the people and the obscene, flagrant opulence and luxury I witness among the elite.  I have a foot in both worlds and what I feel goes way beyond culture shock.  I am sitting writing you with tears in my eyes.  

"On top of this you have to layer the reality that most of the people here lived through years of one of the bloodiest, insane civil wars ever.  The stories and experiences I have heard over the last couple of days are wrenching.

"While walking around town today I encountered an old woman in a wheel chair.  She was skinny and extremely malnourished and crippled.  I don't even know how she uses a wheel chair here because the streets and sidewalks are crumbled and full of potholes and chunks of cement and dislodged asphalt.  If you can walk normally you risk injury if you aren't constantly conscious  of how and where you are walking.

Sidewalk along Tubman Boulevard, Sinkor, Monrovia, Liberia

Sidewalk along Tubman Boulevard, Sinkor, Monrovia, Liberia
Note the man in the wheelchair in the background

"Anyway, I encountered this old woman and she stuck out her hand and I decided I should give her something.  Well within seconds I was surrounded by other handicapped people with increasingly severe handicaps.  What should I do?  I remembered that I had spent maybe $20 dollars the night before on a dinner and a few beers at 'reasonable' restaurant next to the US embassy, (i.e., a nice part of town).  This of course makes me feel guilty and I start handing out more money, but I only have a few small bills and so I start handing out bigger bills until of course I stop.  I have a threshold I guess where self interest trumps generosity and I am filled with feelings that I can't really describe.  A sense of bewildered irony and a search for courage as I suppress an urge to run away.

"But don't let me depress you.  There is much here that is fun and enjoyable.  I spent part of the afternoon at a great beach next to a little fishing village where the people were friendly and full of the love of life.  Poor, sure, but they fish and they have food and they sell their surplus so they have some money.  I am definitely going back to that place again. 

"This is a wild experience that will tug a soul in every direction."

Sign across the street from the entrance to Robertsfield International Airport

The Gateway to Liberia