Africa: Chapter 2

Hot, foamy, whole-fat milk, poured into a paper cup with a strong shot of black espresso compelled into a leaf pattern on the top. Creamy white starched sheets covered by a plush down comforter. Orange nail polish. A bottle of South African red wine, with a string of colorful beads anointing the neck. Chocolate breakfast crepes and plain yogurt with cashews and wild honey. TIME magazine, books, and a poolside afternoon.

Needless to say (as I savor my undeserved simplicities) it is a fabulous week in Nairobi, Kenya. A gentle pause before the commencement of Africa chapter two…Liberia. I am peaceful. Grateful for the break, and enthusiastically expectant for West Africa.

I step off the plane. I begin to sweat. The rainy season has transformed the tiny nation into a giant greenhouse. Forty-percent of the West African rainforest lies in Liberia, making the current weather wetter than a South Florida summer. It is beautiful. We roll down the tarmac from the airport to the city center in a rusty old jeep. Bump started, missing cushions, one window broken, moldy smell, eats diesel fuel, oil, and power-steering fluid. I have already fallen in love with it. The absolute perfect car for Liberia, for the beach, for the bush, I need to think of a name. Suggestions?

Robertsport. The surf capital of Liberia, and home of the “annual surfing competition,” which just so happens to be the day after I arrive. Pristine beach, white sand, black sand, beautiful waters, gorgeous waves. I shall try my hand at surfing. Fail. Not strong enough yet and the waves are too big. It was a three-hour ride on a bumpy road up to the town, but totally worth it. I’m thinking… idyllic. Can’t beat that for the first day in country.

Day two. Monday morning. I am greeted by beautiful, kind, Liberian faces, but the office is out of power, so I can’t truly make out everyone’s features. It’s dark and hot inside…steamy, in fact, due to the incessant levels of rain the ground has absorbed in the past 24 hours. Its two stories, very small, five rooms constructed out of what could be one. The ceilings are low, so low that I duck below the door frame to enter my office, which I will be sharing with the National Director.

Business at hand: Driver’s License and Residency Permit. Check. Next, a cup of good coffee at Evelyn’s. Surprisingly restful and pleasant for a local joint but the café and the painfully slow internet, combined with the smells of African food, tile floors, and a half-hearted air-conditioning unit make Evelyn’s $1 morning coffee my new favorite treat.

An excellent orientation and wonderful welcome to the beautiful country of Liberia. Homework? Name for the car. Bless those around me. Shine Jesus into the deepness and sadness that is pervasive, and lurks just below the surface, hiding in the poverty, injustice, corruption, and simple daily life of people…everywhere. More to follow…