As noted earlier, the demand for workshops has tripled since we've been here. For example, yesterday's presentation to the NCCC faculty was not scheduled. Just minutes after meeting the president of the college we were standing in front of the entire faculty delivering our message. Naturally, as such requests rise, so do the costs. But we're not stopping. Fortunately, we have our GoFundMe site that anyone can visit and contribute. Please do.
https://www.gofundme.com/africanliteracy
Now onto today's post.
The last blog was all about the two workshops in two upcountry, rural cities. This post is about getting there and back and things in between. The opening photo above was taken just outside the Ganta Youth and Resource and Recreation Center following the presentation.
One side note about the Ganta presentation, and all the Liberian schools we've seen, the hall in which we presented was a simple block design, two windows, six fans mounted to the ceiling (only four worked) a few ceiling lights and no air-conditioning. As you can imagine, filling the room with this many people, not to mention a hot projector, made it very hot and the longer the day went, the hotter it got. Yet there sat every teacher in professional clothes (men in long sleeve shirt and long pants, women in long dresses) every student in a school uniform, being an attentive audience, many fanning themselves. They sat there for some four hours. One boy wore a hoodie and didn't seem to be bothered in the least. It was very hot! Another reason to admire the students and teachers we meet and their strength of purpose to persevere and make Liberia great through education.
As you saw in yesterday's sampling of successes from the students, education is not just a means to a grade or diploma for these children, it's the lever to lift their friends, neighbors, counties and country. I am inspired and awed by their drive and grit.
Travelogue...
Speaking of our trusty Cruiser, what follows is an entry written on the road as we drove this morning...
Tuesday, April 5, 2016
As I type this we are heading back to Monrovia in a U.N. Toyota Land Cruiser, speeding along at 100 kph. The U.N. Cruisers are all over. They are all the same model, year and color (white). They're all marked with stickers and names on the sides explaining their organization, usually some kind of relief group, many with big letters “UN”. Ours: “Rice and Rights Foundation”. The vehicle in which I sit now is stained with red dust, dented and scratched here and there, well worn.
Six passengers and all their belongings fill the cabin. Roll call: Jay at the wheel, Tim in the passenger seat. The back row holds Calvin (the tallest Liberian in the country - 6’ 3”), Xane in the middle and me on the right. In the rear storage area sits Wilson, though I can’t see Wilson for he is surrounded by all of our luggage, bags, and cases. He’s there.
Yes, we washed the truck a few days back and it was basically white. However, we went to great lengths yesterday to cover every square inch of the vehicle with dirt, dust and sand. We also tested the suspension, speed and shocks with vigor. Further, we pushed the limits of our seat belts. The road from Monrovia to Ganta was, as I described earlier, very smooth and modern. However, the road from Ganta to Senniquellie, even further into the upcountry, was not smooth and not modern. It was dirt the entire way. It was up and down over hills, through huge machine-cut gullies, zig-zagging every which way. Bumpy, often rutted from water and grooved by cars, trucks and motorcycles.
We made the hour-long Ganta to Sennequillie drive yesterday afternoon. It was rough. However, with Jay deftly navigating each bump and hill and detour (or as they call them here, deviation) with minimal bangs, rattles and jumps, we fared pretty well. It was the ride back that was downright thrilling/frightening/rough/painful. It was the same road, of course. However, it was night and very dark. The only light coming from an occasional passing vehicle. The tiny villages we passed through were pitch dark, with a random flashlight dimly illuminating a hut off to the side.
Before continuing, a word on Tim’s role as co-navigator. For every trip and side-excursion we take, Tim’s job (hobby) is to log progress. He keeps notes in his phone of landmarks passed: what time we reach a certain bridge, landmark or village and how long between each. This comes in handy for two reasons, he is meticulous with names, locations, etc for his reports. Second, using his logs, Jay can predict driving distances between landmarks. Jay can also use the records as targets. If it took twelve minutes to drive between Tonwee and Kitoma when driving towards our destination, then, on the return trip he will try to make it in nine minutes. By doing this, section by section, all our return trips go much faster. He drives faster and bolder.
Such was the case with our return trip from Sennequillie to Ganta. He attacked that same bumpy, hilly, rutted roadway with blind abandon, literally and figuratively. He powered through the darkness, our Cruiser headlights leading the way. As we raced up hills, Jay beeped his horn over and over and flashed the headlights to warn any drivers heading toward us. But with such limited vision it’s not possible to see every bump, every dip, every hill. But he had times to beat, and beat them he did. We hit a few bumps with great force, smashing into each other, into windows, into the ceiling. We rated jolts on a scale of 1 to 10, ten being inches from being upside down on the side of the road. Our best was a 9 1/2. Jay at top speed committed to a path on the far right side of the washboard road bed, when he was surprised by a deep uneven, jagged rut in the road. Wham! It was loud. Everything in the truck, people, bags, phones, papers, flew into the air. It was awesome. It was almost a 10!
One more thing seen on the roads:
At road construction sites we passed entire villages digging through the freshly dumped rows of roadbed rocks. Mothers, children and men were pulling out the biggest rocks and bagging them. There were piles of these rocks inside their villages. They collect them for their own buildings or to sell.
~~~
Back to the original post.
Getting to the waterfall required passing over this wood plank bridge. Here we are inspecting it for soundness. The boards were not fastened to one another in any way. They all shifted and bounced as we crossed. Since you are reading this you know we made it over safely both ways.
Tree near the falls. Very big tree, I should say. Xane's at the base showing scale.
Another.
Until tomorrow...
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