First Week in Makeni

Today and yesterday I was left to myself. On Monday, Vicar General Dominic asked me if I would need some time to settle in before I began work. I told him I think it would be best to take some time to get used to living in Sierra Leone and yes I definitely needed to rest. So he said I could start working at the hospital next week.

I’ve been trying to stay active while I’m here. First, I usually do some light yoga. But then I go for a walk down the road where I live. It’s called Stocco Road at Stocco Junction. I live in the Stocco Compound. Stocco Compound is very clean and there are a lot of beautiful plants here. In front of my house are two bushes with white flowers that I found out are called “crepe jasmine”. They smell heavenly. Outside the compound, Stocco Road is a dirt road with many pot holes and bumps. The road is lined with the homes of people who live here. Chickens run around free and goats are usually tied to trees but sometimes they get loose too. Cars and motor bikes make their way up and down the road, honking their horns the whole time. Children play close to the road. All the locals are very friendly. When I’m walking down the road they smile and wave. Many people, especially children, invite me to talk with them. One family even had me come and sit on their front porch with them. They all are pleasantly surprised that my name is so similar to a Siera Leonean name. I try so hard to remember their names but it’s so difficult because I’ve met so many people and the names I am given are so different from American names. After seeing what I can see of Stocco Road, I go back to my house.

There is something a bit odd about my meals though. The Vicar General had told me on Monday someone would come to take me to dinner that night and no one did. And then no one came at lunchtime the next day. It’s not like I was starving. I had been given some canned tuna and ground nuts by the bishop so that was good. Lunch finally did come at 2:30 pm with a delivery man. Apparently, my meals are going to be brought to me instead of me brought to them. It was a chicken leg, with some very spicy rice, and some vegetables. Dinner was the same. And then the next day (thankfully at an earlier time), lunch was the same. I wonder if I’m going to get tired of chicken and rice. Actually, as I’m writing this, the delivery man just came with dinner and low and behold, something different! It’s fish, pasta, and vegetables! Hurray!

I do worry I’m going to get bored while I try and rest up. Granted I do have chores I do around the house but even just the little things wear me out so much because I’m so hot and sweaty all the time. I have a kindle and other things to keep me occupied though. And a cold shower always makes me feel better. The power still goes out a lot. I hope the water doesn’t give out too.

I also hope I can learn where I can go and buy things. I especially want to learn how to barter. I asked one sister living here named sister Vivian if she knew of any stores close by. She said she would show me. I also want learn what a fair price is. There is so much I need to figure out while I’m here! God bless!

 

The Next Day:

 

Today was a great day! This morning, I had my first class with Father Gabriel learning about the language here called Krio. I learned different ways to greet people, different words that they say here that are similar to English, and different phrases that will be useful when I am working at the hospital, like “Do ya si don” which means “Please sit down” and “Ow yo dai fill?” which means “How do you feel?”. He even taught me the Krio words for different parts of the body. For example, when people say “han”, it means more than just hand. It means the wrist, arm, and shoulder. Father Gabirel is a good teacher. He is patient but also makes me do work. Instead of just talking at me, which I feel a lot of teachers do, he has me repeat phrases and try to figure out what phrases mean on my own.

When he asked me how I was doing, I told him I was doing fine, just a little tired being at the house all day. It’s good I’m resting before I start work, but it’s hard being here with no internet or phone yet. When he heard that, he told me he was going out to the bush today to meet with some people in a village. The bush basically means the countryside outside of Makeni. He asked me if I would like to go with him. I said I would love to! So after lunch (and applying a lot of sunscreen and bug spray), I got into his car and we drove out of Makeni.

The roads in Makeni are paved. But when you leave the city, it’s all dirt with a lot of bumps and pot holes. It’s kind of like Stocco Road, the road I live on, but that road is short. This road goes on and on into the jungle. I’m sure we went for miles and miles but I didn’t feel any of the bumps or dips. I was too fascinated with my surroundings. We passed by many villages with colorful buildings. There were palm trees, mango trees, people walking up and down the road, farmland where people grew their crops. Father pointed out many churches where he used to preach and baptize people. Everything was so new and different for me I was over the moon seeing everything. At one point we passed by a plot of land where people were growing peppers. Father Gabriel asked if I had ever seen these peppers. I said no and he immediately stopped the car and let me get out to go meet the people in the field. They showed me all the hard work they had done picking the peppers. I even got to practice the greetings I learned. They were very friendly.

Later down the road, we passed some mounds that looked like giant fancy mushrooms. I asked Father Gabirel what they were, and he said they were ant hills. He told me that people will saw them off at the base and break them open so their chickens can eat the grubs inside. Then people will mix the broken pieces of the ant hill with sand to help them build their houses. Father let me go out to take pictures of the hills. I was careful to watch my step so I wouldn’t run into those ants. The last thing I ever want is fancy ants in my pants!

 

Every time we passed by a village, the children would see me and call out “Porto! Porto!” Father Gabriel explained that it’s short for “Portuguese”. The Portuguese were the first Europeans in Sierra Leone. So now whenever they see someone with pale skin, they call them “Porto”. When we stopped so Father could speak with someone, all the children came up to the car to see me. I greeted them by saying “Kushe O,” and they all smiled and greeted me back. I gave them all high fives before Father drove on.

When we came to the village that was our destination, Father explained that he was building a church there across from the village school. We met one of the teachers and a builder there and while they spoke with Father, I took some pictures and looked around at the surrounding area. I was careful not to go off the road though because of snakes or whatever else was crawling around in the brush. The flowers are so beautiful here. I asked Father what kind a pretty pink flower I found was. He told me it was just a regular flower. But not to me! It was brand new and beautiful. One of the men Father was talking to saw how much I wanted to get closer to the flower, so he picked one for me so I could see it better. It was so nice of him. Everyone I meet is very polite and say their happy to see me. And I tell them I’m happy to see them too!

After his business was done, Father drove me and some of the villagers back to Makeni. We made one stop at a hardware store so one of the builders could get some materials, then came back to Stocco Compound. Father says if I want, I can come again with him sometime. I can’t wait! I thank God for this day. Or as they say in Krio, “Ah tankee God!” It was truly a blessing to get out and see more of Sierra Leone.

  

Meeting New People

Miscommunication happens every day. So it was no surprise when it happened to me. This morning, while I was still in my pajamas, I heard a knock on my door and found a sister, who introduced herself as Sister Peace. Sister Peace is also a nurse and works at the hospital I will be working at. She also lives at the convent close to my house. She told me that she had come to take me to the hospital. I told her that the Vicar General had told me yesterday that he was going to pick me up himself at 11:30. She told me that the Vicor General had told her that she was the one to pick me up. As quickly as I could, I rushed to dress and clean myself. The driver, Stevie, Sister Peace and I crammed into the front seat and we drove to Holy Spirit Hospital. Sister Peace introduced me to the head nurse, Sister Juliana. She brought me to the resident doctor, Dr. Patrick Turay, and a nurse manager, Sister Nora. Dr. Turay told me that I should not hesitate to ask questions while working at the hospital and to be patient with myself because I was now going to be working in a new culture. I appreciated his words.

Sister Nora then took me on a small tour of the hospital. I asked her when I would see the bishop. She said she didn’t know and asked me what the Vicar General had said. I told her that I thought he was going to take me there himself, but I guess I had misunderstood. Sister Nora called the Vicor General himself to ask. He told her that I was supposed to still be at my house and he was going to send a car for me at 11:30! Classic miscommunication.

Everything worked out all right though. I visited with Sister Nora while we waited for the driver. Turns out she’s from Kenya! And the sisters who live near me are a Nigerian order. I didn’t expect there to be so many different people from all different parts of Africa here!

Later, I was brought to the parsonage headquarters where I got to see Father John again, this time at his work. I also met the current chief of the local tribe who was visiting Father John that day. The Vicor General brought Bishop Bob John (named after Bob Marely) to meet me. If I thought Father John’s greeting at the airport had been warm, it was nothing compared to the Bishop’s. He took my hand in both of his, looked me in the eyes with a wide smile and said, “Welcome, welcome, Sally. I am so happy that you have come at last.” It was the sincerest and kindest greeting I have ever received. He led me to his office and asked after my sister Mary. He had been told that she had been sick in the hospital with pneumonia, and he had been praying for her and our family. I thanked him for his thoughtfulness. Our meeting made me feel so glad that I had come to Makeni. The bishop told me that my presence here showed people that we are connected. That we are not just African Christians or American Christians. But we are all Christians. We are all part of one family. He told me how much he appreciated that I had sacrificed so much to come here: my family, my friends. He wanted to make sure I was well cared for while I stay in Sierra Leone. That meeting gave me a new feeling of belonging.  I also got to meet Father Joe Turay, Dr. Turay’s brother, who Janice had known during her mission stay in Sierra Leone. Bishop Bob made sure that I had some more food at my house and Father John got me a new tea kettle. I am so happy that I will be working under Bishop Bob. He seems to be a very kind man. I can see why he became a bishop because he is so friendly, and people oriented. I enjoyed meeting him so much. I know that he is a very busy man, so I probably won’t see him a lot, but I hope I get to see more of him occasionally.

After meeting the bishop was finished, Vicar General Dominic drove me to a canteen at the University of Makeni for lunch. I was served a chicken leg and some very spicy rice. I felt bad I didn’t eat more but the heat has started to affect me. I don’t really want to eat large meals when I’m feeling so hot. I’m sweating so much and it gets worse if I move too much. Shout out to Kendra Harrison for suggesting Carpe Anti-Face Sweat cream and another shout out to Tia Virgina and Uncle Joe for Anti-Chaffing body sticks! Both help SO much.

The rest of the day I just rested at my house. It feels nice getting to know where I’m going to live and finding places for all my stuff. It’s also kind of fun when the power goes out. I get to use my solar powered lamp and fan (shout to Katie and John Miller).

Every day is an adventure. I wonder what tomorrow will bring. God bless! 

Arrival in Sierra Leone

At this point in my life, the thrill of an airplane taking off has kind of died down for me over the years. But this flight was different. I finally felt my heart race and my stomach flutter in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time. “No turning back now,” I thought to myself as I felt the plane leave the ground. I wasn’t afraid or nervous thinking about the task I was undertaking. All I felt was excitement. I was really doing it. As Bilbo Baggins once said, “I’m going on an adventure!”

My first sight of Africa was the setting sun casting it’s golden rays on winding rivers making their way to the open sea. This was when the nervousness hit. I’ve never been to Africa. So the thought of living there for 3 years hit me like a ton of bricks and my stomach dropped as the plane descended. But I took a deep breath, said a prayer, squared my shoulders, and took my first steps into my new life. And those first steps were those of a tottering toddler. The first person I met was a customs official who checked if we had our passports. In a heavily accented voice, he asked, “Do you have a visa?” I thought he meant a work visa which I will acquire later. I told him “No,” and he flipped through the pages of my passport until he found my verification of entry. “Here it is,” he exclaimed in annoyance. “Why you say no?” The only thing I could answer was, “I don’t know,” and he moved me along. Ah yes, the life of a clueless tourist. Not my favorite role in life.

After another passport check, I got all my bags together and made my way towards the baggage check. I was the very last passenger in line and after the man who checked my baggage labels had done his job he asked, “Do you have tip-tip?” You guys need to realize, my mind was foggy after spending so many hours in the sky and I had no idea what he was talking about. “What?” I replied. “I want to buy a drink,” he said. “Oh,” I said. “I don’t drink.” Again, foggy mind. “No, tip-tip!” he persisted. This went on for far too long until he made the universal sign of rubbing his fingers together. “Ah ha! Tip!” I cried out in triumph. Only to realize I had American money and not Leones. Well, he had asked and he would receive. I openly gave him five bucks and he impatiently moved me along. Great first impression Sal, I told myself. You look like a first-class idiot.

So there I was in the airport lobby, knowing I looked like a poor lost lamb, and I just stood there, hoping whoever was going to pick me up would know me. A young lady with orange hair and a matching shirt soon came up to me. “Are you part of World Mission?” she asked. Now my foggy mind knew one thing clearly; whoever was picking me up would know the Lay Mission Helpers name correctly and my name. This was not my person. “I’m part of a mission but not World Mission,” I said. She nodded sagely and asked, “You paid your bag fee?” A clear image of Janice England telling me I needed $25 for a baggage fee burst through the fog in my mind and I said, “No, not yet.” The lady in orange told me, “You need to go to one of the banks and pay.” She led me to one and asked other questions, all of which I could only answer with a dumb “No”. As I was digging around for the amount, and security guard came up to me and said, “Are you Suh-Lee Ro-gas?” That is as close to my name as it was gonna get, so I dumbly nodded. “There is a priest waiting for you outside,” he said. Relief flooded me so fast I forgot to thank the lady in orange. I still think about her sometimes. Her straightforward personality and color choices are hard to forget.

My escort was easy to spot. He was wearing white vestments with his arms spread wide to embrace me. “You made it!” he said with a wide smile. “I am Monsignor John. We’re so happy you’re here!” All that nervousness and embarrassment went right out of me meeting Monsignor John. All that was left was joy. “I’m happy to be here,” I told him honestly. After so many months of preparation, my mission was finally beginning.

Father John took me to his car, where our driver was waiting. As we drove, Father John began telling me everything about the surrounding area. He pointed out the way to Freetown and told me the names of the villages we passed. Outside we passed people walking on the side of the road. Some carried flashlights, others walked in the darkness of night. We passed families outside their homes, sitting around fires or lanterns. There were no stop signs or traffic lights. Only speed bumps and honking horns communicating with the various vehicles on the road. I was grateful the road was paved and not very curvy. It was dark, but I could make out the silhouettes of plants and trees I had never seen before. At first, I listened to Father John with the rapture of a child hearing a good fairy tale, but soon I could barely keep my eyes open. I felt so bad. Father John wanted to help me know and understand Sierra Leone and I couldn’t even stay awake. Finally, my eyes couldn’t stay open anymore and I felt my body slump in my seat. We arrived in Makeni about 10:30 pm. The power was out. This didn’t surprise me. I knew about the frequent blackouts and had come prepared. But Father John generously loaned me a lamp and some bug spray to get me through the night. I have to say, I was grateful I didn’t have to dig through my suitcases. The car came to a darling little house in a gated courtyard. “This is where you will stay,” Father John told me. The house is next to a convent of Nigerian sisters. After getting my baggage inside and showing me around, Father said, “We will let you sleep and sleep for your first day.” I thanked him as he drove away, and I was left alone to rest. My first case of culture shock came with my bed. There were no sheets or blankets. Instead, the mattress was covered with a soft, plastic tarp with pillowcases made of the same material. If you think about it, laying on top of this style of bedding makes way more sense than sweating under itchy cotton sheets and I was much more comfortable.

I was awakened by the call for the Islamic morning prayer. I’ve heard it before when I visited Isreal years ago. It was nice to be able to identify something. Everything before had been a mystery and a new discovery for me. I found some muffins, biscuits and powdered milk had been left for my breakfast and I ate gratefully. I had a cold shower and let me tell you, it was blissful after a full night of sweating. Later, I heard a knock at my door and found a sister on my porch. “Good morning,” she said. “I am here to take you to mass.”

I quickly changed into a church appropriate dress, I found the sister (I wish I could remember her name!) in the car and the priest of Holy Spirit Church, Father Manuel, was to be our driver. I loved the music they played during the service. It reminded me of reggae. And it was so comforting to hear the mass being said because no matter where you go, the Liturgy is basically the same. Even better, it was done in English! I knew what to do and I knew what to say. The congregation was so welcoming when Father Manuel introduced me. Everyone seemed thrilled when they heard my name. Apparently, Sally sounds like a Sierra Leonean name, which is pronounced “Suh-Lee”. I’m happy to go by that name while I stay here. Many people shook my hand and said, “Welcome.” It feels good to be welcomed. It’s not like coming home to something, but more like feeling a part of something. Like, even though this isn’t my home, I still belong.

One young lady came up to me after the service and asked me if I would like to join a group of young adults that helps organize church events. They were meeting after church service and I eagerly agreed. Again, I was welcomed but most of the discussion was in Krio so my understanding of what they were organizing is limited. To be fair, the group leader Dominic tried to explain to me what was going on in English, but so many people were talking over him and he spent so much time shushing them and I couldn’t stop laughing, so I didn’t catch much of his explanation. From what I understand, they are putting on an event called “Africana”, which they also called Thanksgiving sometimes, and for some reason a dress is involved. I know because they kept passing around a phone with a picture of a dress and apparently everyone approves of the dress. To help organize, we were divided into two groups. I was placed in Group A, where everyone high-fived every time they got a new member and I was no exception. One lady in the group called Mafida gave me her phone number so I could be updated. I have yet to get a local phone, but I told her as soon as I did, I would reach out to her.

Father Manuel and the sister invited me to have lunch with them. They served rice and a fish head stew. I know what you’re thinking. But the fish tasted so good. The stew had such a good flavor that I didn’t mind my lunch staring back at me. For dessert we had teeny, tiny bananas. They were what bananas were meant to be; sweet and scrumptious. I was driven back to my house, I met the Vicor General Dominic. He introduced himself and told me that tomorrow he is going to take me to meet the bishop and to meet the hospital staff. I can’t wait!

That evening, I got to see Father John again! I was so happy to see a familiar face. He took me to dinner at a place called “Lodge Valley”. On the way there, he drove all over Makeni pointing out schools and the parsonage headquarters, telling me about the politics of Sierra Leone and parts of the history. Lodge Valley is run by a friend of Father John’s. Father John called him “Pa Ali”. Father John told me that you address an older gentleman by “Pa”. We went to a courtyard where the three of us sat and the two men tried teaching me some Krio and educate me about the different tribes of Sierra Leone. Father John told me that another priest named Father Gabriel is going to teach me more about Krio and the culture. I am so grateful that I have instructors while I’m here and I won’t be too much in the dark about the country I will be living in for 3 years. A young lady named Kah-dee served us our meal. Father John introduced us and told me about how he had known her since she was a baby because her mother Elizabeth had been part of his congregation. Kah-dee told me about how she works and goes to university at the same time.

Our meal was roasted chicken, French fries, and plantains. Plantains are one of my favorite foods because my Coco (my grandma) makes them for me at her home. Again, it was nice to see something familiar. While we ate, I kept seeing flashes of light and pointed them out to Father John. He didn’t know what it was either until we both started feeling raindrops. We quickly moved our meal to shelter, and a torrential storm started pouring down. Never had I seen rain come down so fast or lightning and thunder flash and crash so furiously. It was spectacular! I loved it. Father John told me it is very unusual to see this kind of weather in February. Most storms come in the rainy season around August and September. It’s the dry season right now. He told me everyone would be happy to see the rain.

He drove me back home to my little house. It was a wonderful first day. It helped me believe that I can become a part of the community and made me even more excited to learn about this country. I thank God that He brought me here. I feel well taken care of and safe.

 

Ready for Service in Sierra Leone

I always wanted to go to Africa. Ever since I was a kid watching movies like “The Lion King” or “George of the Jungle”, they sparked my imagination and fed my interest. And while these depictions were not accurate with their talking animals, I knew there had to be something special about Africa to have so many people go and create so many wonderful stories. Now that I’m going to Africa myself, it feels that I’m about to create my own story. I have no idea how this adventure will turn out. I know I’m not going to go and have a wacky adventure in the jungle. I’m going because I feel called by God to go and help people who need it. I know there are going to be bumps in the road, mistakes made, tough times, and bug bites. But right now, I don’t care! I’m about to experience something extraordinary. And I can’t wait to share it with everyone!

 

I haven’t been able to leave yet. I had to delay my trip until February 12 (already a bump in the road), but honestly it was for the best. I caught some kind of flu two weeks ago and haven’t stopped hacking up phlegm since. The last thing I want is to show up to Sierra Leone and sound like someone who smoked a cigar everyday of her life. So I get a little time to rest and recover before I leave. But I feel like a racehorse chomping at the bit. I just can’t wait to leave and get started! I want to know what I’m going to do when I get there. I know I’m going to work at Holy Spirit Hospital, but I want to meet the patients I’ll care for and know what duties I’m going to perform. I want to see the sun rise in a country I’ve never been before. I want to shake hands with people I’ve never met before. I want to make new friends, try new foods, and listen to new music. I want to make mistakes and learn from them. I want to get homesick but then find something that just makes me so grateful I get to be in Africa and thank God for leading me there. I keep praying to Him that I haven’t forgotten anything that I’ll need to bring. Though if anything, I might be bringing too much. I hope I’ll be able to get everything to the airport in Lungi. I’m sure when I arrive, people will wonder why I have so many things. But I believe in being prepared for anything.

 This week will be my last week in the USA for a long time and I’m glad I will get to spend the time I have left with my family. I enjoyed my time with them these past two months. The Going Away party my mom threw for me was excellent! It made me feel so loved by my family, my friends, and my community. I also get to stay long enough to attend my Gram’s memorial service. She was really the one who inspired me to travel to new countries. She travelled all around the world and sometimes took me with her. She was an independent woman with an adventurous spirit. I’ll always be grateful for her encouraging me to pursue my interests and her belief that I could do anything I put my mind to. And I hope I can walk in her footsteps as a traveler. I’m glad I get to honor her and be with my family during this time of remembrance. I know I’m going to miss everyone while I’m gone, but I think sharing my adventures with them will help me feel closer to them. I look forward to writing them down on this blog. My next post will probably be about traveling to Sierra Leone. Until then, may the lord our God bless you all!