This is a picture of Koru, a small child at Rainbow Town, and myself. She's one of the many little girls who call me Auntie Amy and teach me different things everyday. Precious!
Sunday, July 22, 2007
My first field trip to the slums
July 21, 2007
This was one of the hardest days I’ve ever witnessed. I was uncomfortable. I was dirty. I was wet. I was in disease. I was in famine. I was in sewage. I was among flies. Fleas. Skin wounds. Lice. Poverty. Absence. Nakedness. No hope. Death.
This is what I witnessed in the slums of Monrovia. I was thrown out of the realm of comfort and cleanliness and tossed into the streets of reality. This is the reality for the majority of people in the world. They live on no money, with no food and little hope of a better future. Some travel from their home country looking for a better life. For water. For food. But they end up traveling from one impoverished country to another.
This is Africa.
I witnessed nomads from Niger who traveled to Liberia because their own country could not support them. They live in the Sahara where water is scarce and money is non-existent. Liberia, to them, looked like the solution. Yet, their children beg on the streets for pennies or food to take back to their hungry and sick family in dilapidated structures torn from Liberia’s civil war. They beg from beggars. They were sick and had nothing. They sat on cardboard and dirty mattes covered in mud and infested with lice. They had a small spark of life in their eyes, but they also wore the burden of a tough existence.
Poverty.
We traveled to the slums by the soccer stadium in down town Monrovia. There was a ditch where sewage and waste traveled from the city through the center of their community. When we arrived they were curious. They were also angry. They were hungry. They wore tattered clothing and carried the stench of the sewage they live in. It was their life and the only thing they know. Where flies and other insects rest on their food and their water comes from a small well right next to the sewage. Some were hostile to the fact that we came walking into their community with cameras and curious eyes. They wanted money. They have seen too many people promise what they cannot deliver. We promised nothing but learned their names and listened to their stories. That’s all we could give. We let them know our own pockets were empty but knowing our lives were in far better conditions than theirs. They knew it too.
Disease.
Then WestPoint. The largest impoverished community in Monrovia. The shanties were close together and people were everywhere. It was a busy community yet few cars venture into their streets. We were strangers. Flies surrounded us and rested on our own flesh as we walked through the dirty streets. The smell was nauseating. I stood with teenage boys at the shore of the Atlantic Ocean on a trash heap as they fished for enormous fish that they would then sell in their markets. Trying to sustain life. They looked at us with skeptical eyes. I encouraged and took pictures of young boys as they played soccer on the muddy, sand covered earth, which seemed like their only source of enjoyment. Strange things were cooking. Boys and girls walking around naked. Old women sitting in shacks enjoying their time together. Young children following us with curious eyes. We were not welcome with our expensive cameras and Western walks, yet they enjoyed seeing us. I felt like I was exploiting the people when I would raise my camera to take a picture …like I was a tourist enjoying the scenery. People would beg us for medicine because we were white. They would ask for money because we were white. So many colors, smells and sights. I would lie if I didn’t admit I was uncomfortable. I wanted to witness this life but I wanted to get as far away from it as I could. It was so hard there. Life was so hard. I had no idea.
Ignorance.
Ignorance and apathy are the main culprits of this destitute poverty in the world. I witnessed a small corner of it in the streets of Liberia. A fragment of the whole picture. My eyes were opened and I experienced a life unlike my own. I was unaware of the suffering many people in Liberia and also the vast majority of the world has endured due to poverty. Whether or not apathy sets in is a question time will tell. I pray I’m changed by what my eyes witnessed, what my lungs breathed, what my skin touched, where my feet walked and what my mind will remember. I have a few pictures to remind me of what it’s like to live in a such a way. But I have a feeling I won’t soon forget the seared images of what I witnessed today in my memory for the rest of my life.
Enough description …we need more action.
This was one of the hardest days I’ve ever witnessed. I was uncomfortable. I was dirty. I was wet. I was in disease. I was in famine. I was in sewage. I was among flies. Fleas. Skin wounds. Lice. Poverty. Absence. Nakedness. No hope. Death.
This is what I witnessed in the slums of Monrovia. I was thrown out of the realm of comfort and cleanliness and tossed into the streets of reality. This is the reality for the majority of people in the world. They live on no money, with no food and little hope of a better future. Some travel from their home country looking for a better life. For water. For food. But they end up traveling from one impoverished country to another.
This is Africa.
I witnessed nomads from Niger who traveled to Liberia because their own country could not support them. They live in the Sahara where water is scarce and money is non-existent. Liberia, to them, looked like the solution. Yet, their children beg on the streets for pennies or food to take back to their hungry and sick family in dilapidated structures torn from Liberia’s civil war. They beg from beggars. They were sick and had nothing. They sat on cardboard and dirty mattes covered in mud and infested with lice. They had a small spark of life in their eyes, but they also wore the burden of a tough existence.
Poverty.
We traveled to the slums by the soccer stadium in down town Monrovia. There was a ditch where sewage and waste traveled from the city through the center of their community. When we arrived they were curious. They were also angry. They were hungry. They wore tattered clothing and carried the stench of the sewage they live in. It was their life and the only thing they know. Where flies and other insects rest on their food and their water comes from a small well right next to the sewage. Some were hostile to the fact that we came walking into their community with cameras and curious eyes. They wanted money. They have seen too many people promise what they cannot deliver. We promised nothing but learned their names and listened to their stories. That’s all we could give. We let them know our own pockets were empty but knowing our lives were in far better conditions than theirs. They knew it too.
Disease.
Then WestPoint. The largest impoverished community in Monrovia. The shanties were close together and people were everywhere. It was a busy community yet few cars venture into their streets. We were strangers. Flies surrounded us and rested on our own flesh as we walked through the dirty streets. The smell was nauseating. I stood with teenage boys at the shore of the Atlantic Ocean on a trash heap as they fished for enormous fish that they would then sell in their markets. Trying to sustain life. They looked at us with skeptical eyes. I encouraged and took pictures of young boys as they played soccer on the muddy, sand covered earth, which seemed like their only source of enjoyment. Strange things were cooking. Boys and girls walking around naked. Old women sitting in shacks enjoying their time together. Young children following us with curious eyes. We were not welcome with our expensive cameras and Western walks, yet they enjoyed seeing us. I felt like I was exploiting the people when I would raise my camera to take a picture …like I was a tourist enjoying the scenery. People would beg us for medicine because we were white. They would ask for money because we were white. So many colors, smells and sights. I would lie if I didn’t admit I was uncomfortable. I wanted to witness this life but I wanted to get as far away from it as I could. It was so hard there. Life was so hard. I had no idea.
Ignorance.
Ignorance and apathy are the main culprits of this destitute poverty in the world. I witnessed a small corner of it in the streets of Liberia. A fragment of the whole picture. My eyes were opened and I experienced a life unlike my own. I was unaware of the suffering many people in Liberia and also the vast majority of the world has endured due to poverty. Whether or not apathy sets in is a question time will tell. I pray I’m changed by what my eyes witnessed, what my lungs breathed, what my skin touched, where my feet walked and what my mind will remember. I have a few pictures to remind me of what it’s like to live in a such a way. But I have a feeling I won’t soon forget the seared images of what I witnessed today in my memory for the rest of my life.
Enough description …we need more action.
Friday, July 20, 2007
I'm Still Alive!...
I know it's been a while since I've updated but I wanted to let everyone know that I'm still alive! So much is happening and we're in the busiest part of our journey. We're currently in Monrovia to work on footage, interviews, audio and a wedding! It's going to be a lot in a little bit of time but we're motivated and excited for everything.
Gbarnga has been good. We've hit some bumps on the road with the documentary (not taping as much as planned or hoped) but the Lord is faithful and protecting our film. The kids are still amazing and I've realized I have become comfortable around Liberians. Before, I wasn't use to the language and could barely understand anyone and wouldn't respond for fear of making some ridiculous comment or cultural no-no. Thankfully, the Liberian people are forgiving and patient with me. But now I feel comfortable in my language and using typical "Liberian" words like, "The people are plenty!" or "I coming be going now" or "I will get down here from the car" or "It is spoiled!" ...random, I know, but it really helps to say phrases that they understand so they don't stare at you blankly. It's actually a lot of fun.
The orphanage is great. I've been spending a lot of time with the older girls. Their ages range from 16 to 23. They have so much wisdom and an amazing faith. They are my Pelle teachers and will constantly challenge me by asking me questions in their native language. Unfortunately it's a hard language to learn. My mouth is unable to make some of the sounds it requires. So everyone gets a kick and giggle out of me trying. Like I said, they're patient with me.
As for our team, our health is good. Although, Willie has been feeling a little sick lately and not eating much. Imagine a 6'7" football player not eating much for weeks on end. No protein. Just a diet based on rice, peanut butter, eggs, bread and speghetti. One would think all the carbs would make us gain weight, but actually, all of us have lost 5-10 pounds each. We've stumbled upon the new diet craze. The African diet. Where you eat to survive and since you have no options you eat what you have. Eating isn't enjoyable anymore ...you just do it because you have to or you won't have any energy. And there's no snacking ...it's been a good lession on hunger because a lot of people here go days without eating. And when they do, they eat a meager amount of rice.
Every part of this experience is teaching me something about life. About what it means to have much and to have little. About hunger. About happiness. About faith. About love. About the global church. Everything is a learning experience.
And I'm loving it ...One thing I can tell you is I won't be the same person after this experience in Liberia.
Gbarnga has been good. We've hit some bumps on the road with the documentary (not taping as much as planned or hoped) but the Lord is faithful and protecting our film. The kids are still amazing and I've realized I have become comfortable around Liberians. Before, I wasn't use to the language and could barely understand anyone and wouldn't respond for fear of making some ridiculous comment or cultural no-no. Thankfully, the Liberian people are forgiving and patient with me. But now I feel comfortable in my language and using typical "Liberian" words like, "The people are plenty!" or "I coming be going now" or "I will get down here from the car" or "It is spoiled!" ...random, I know, but it really helps to say phrases that they understand so they don't stare at you blankly. It's actually a lot of fun.
The orphanage is great. I've been spending a lot of time with the older girls. Their ages range from 16 to 23. They have so much wisdom and an amazing faith. They are my Pelle teachers and will constantly challenge me by asking me questions in their native language. Unfortunately it's a hard language to learn. My mouth is unable to make some of the sounds it requires. So everyone gets a kick and giggle out of me trying. Like I said, they're patient with me.
As for our team, our health is good. Although, Willie has been feeling a little sick lately and not eating much. Imagine a 6'7" football player not eating much for weeks on end. No protein. Just a diet based on rice, peanut butter, eggs, bread and speghetti. One would think all the carbs would make us gain weight, but actually, all of us have lost 5-10 pounds each. We've stumbled upon the new diet craze. The African diet. Where you eat to survive and since you have no options you eat what you have. Eating isn't enjoyable anymore ...you just do it because you have to or you won't have any energy. And there's no snacking ...it's been a good lession on hunger because a lot of people here go days without eating. And when they do, they eat a meager amount of rice.
Every part of this experience is teaching me something about life. About what it means to have much and to have little. About hunger. About happiness. About faith. About love. About the global church. Everything is a learning experience.
And I'm loving it ...One thing I can tell you is I won't be the same person after this experience in Liberia.
Thursday, July 5, 2007
Rainy Season
I have never witnesses thunderstorms like I've endured here in Liberia. We are now in Africa's winter called "rainy season". This is a time where Africa is pelted with rain after a long and hot dry season. It starts in July and usually lasts through the end of October and it has proved difficult with the filming of the documentary. Seems mother nature doesn't like electronic equipment. But we're managing well even though we've had to change plans due to a few days of constant rain. We usually have to wait it out with the orphans until the weather breaks and we can shoot. But it has made our life interesting nonetheless.
I have been getting really close to the orphans in the past week since I've been with them for close to a month now. They all know my name and call me "Auntie Amy" in their cute little Liberian English. I've gotten to know some of the older children, caregivers and teachers at Rainbow Town as well. The older children teach me so much about Liberian culture and are patient with me when I can't understand their Liberian English. The boys are curious and want to know about my camera and play soccer with me since they know I played at "University." The girls teach me about platting hair (braiding) and cooking ...we also talk a lot about American culture, music and what my life is like "on the other side." I really enjoy spending time with the older kids.
We have been getting a lot done in the past week. We've had the house to ourselves since the missionary couple have been in Monrovia taking care of business. Like I said before, everything takes longer to do in Liberia ...it's an official unoffical place where you have to have an "official" form for this and an "official" letter for that. They're currently trying to get our passports extended and register the Shine car with the government ...which translates into a week long process.
But it's been good because we've had to wake up early and ride on the Rainbow Town truck with the teachers from town to the orphanage. It's fun to ride on the back of a big truck with a bunch of people. But I definitely stand out since I am white ...all the little kids stare at me because I'm sure I'm a sight to see ...they then point and scream "White woman!" and then wave while eagerly awaiting my wave back. It's funny. If I counted the times I heard "White woman" I would lose count.
But everyone's really nice and we're a well oiled machine now. We still have so much to do for the film but we're chipping away at it slowly. If it rains then we take a bunch of the kids to the local radio station to record their singing and drumming for the soundtrack to the film, or we're filming them at school, working in the fields, playing in the bush or making crafts with them.
It's a great time ...but I know these next 30 days will go quickly. Back to work!
I have been getting really close to the orphans in the past week since I've been with them for close to a month now. They all know my name and call me "Auntie Amy" in their cute little Liberian English. I've gotten to know some of the older children, caregivers and teachers at Rainbow Town as well. The older children teach me so much about Liberian culture and are patient with me when I can't understand their Liberian English. The boys are curious and want to know about my camera and play soccer with me since they know I played at "University." The girls teach me about platting hair (braiding) and cooking ...we also talk a lot about American culture, music and what my life is like "on the other side." I really enjoy spending time with the older kids.
We have been getting a lot done in the past week. We've had the house to ourselves since the missionary couple have been in Monrovia taking care of business. Like I said before, everything takes longer to do in Liberia ...it's an official unoffical place where you have to have an "official" form for this and an "official" letter for that. They're currently trying to get our passports extended and register the Shine car with the government ...which translates into a week long process.
But it's been good because we've had to wake up early and ride on the Rainbow Town truck with the teachers from town to the orphanage. It's fun to ride on the back of a big truck with a bunch of people. But I definitely stand out since I am white ...all the little kids stare at me because I'm sure I'm a sight to see ...they then point and scream "White woman!" and then wave while eagerly awaiting my wave back. It's funny. If I counted the times I heard "White woman" I would lose count.
But everyone's really nice and we're a well oiled machine now. We still have so much to do for the film but we're chipping away at it slowly. If it rains then we take a bunch of the kids to the local radio station to record their singing and drumming for the soundtrack to the film, or we're filming them at school, working in the fields, playing in the bush or making crafts with them.
It's a great time ...but I know these next 30 days will go quickly. Back to work!
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