Under a “slivery” moon...

Yeah, I know… the song actually goes, “…under a silvery moon” but tonight I’m sitting under the barest sliver of a new moon as it rises above the Atlantic. The sky is clear and I wish I knew more about the stars… I’m watching the moon’s progress and the slow emergence of millions of twinkling stars from the verandah of my apartment. Through the grates and above the concrete walls and razor-wire, of course. The tide is sliding back into the small bay, which we overlook… and the fishermen, who wade in the water, have gone back to their huts and rooms after a day of combing the low waters for crab, fish, lobster, shrimp and assorted other goodies to sell in the market.

I’m starting to notice the oddest things about Freetown. Yes, there are plenty of differences but some things are just unexplainable and I find myself becoming more and more curious about just how things work around here. Many of these observations have to do with international aid programs… and well-meaning NGO (non-governmental organizations), I’m sure.

While strolling back from our neighbourhood market, where I bought a delicious “pear” – actually, an avocado by Canadian definition, I saw a lovely woman carrying a finely woven basket on her head. Okay, that’s not unusual… but hanging over the side of the basket was a small, stuffed Homer Simpson doll, complete with yellow skin and blue pants. I couldn’t help but feel weird about the juxtaposition of such an American icon alongside the traditional basketry of West Africa. “Doh”, very strange.

The other day, I noticed my taxi driver wearing a “Relay for Life – Cancer Run” tee-shirt that came from Calgary, AB, and bore the date 2006. Okay, where did he get that? When I asked after his shirt, complimenting him as I expressed interest, he had no idea where Calgary was… and no idea that the “Relay for Life” was a fundraiser for the Canadian Cancer Society.

I can’t avoid a certain “tag” that keeps following me around… I’d asked our landlady, Mala, who’s been so kind and generous, about a set of sheets for my bed, which seems to be an odd size. The next day, she showed up with a folded sheet and tucked inside was a tag from “Value Village”, which, as many of you know, is my second designer of choice in Canada. (the first being Mark’s WorkWearHouse).

While in the market today, I noticed a shop selling electronics… one of many, by the way. And, since I’m in the market for a big-screen TV, NOT, I ventured into the crowded shop bombarded by local hip-hop music. The owner of the shop, Auruda, said they sell speakers… big, loud, honking speakers… reclaimed from recycling ships bound for China. They, the ships, often stop by this giant sea-port on their way down the coast. The shop buys – or steals – these speakers and reclaims and reassembles the parts into these huge boxes… and they’re very popular here. The sound quality is terrible… but they’re loud, and that’s what counts.

While I was with Samuel in his home area of KrooBay, I was given a lesson on making soap from a woman stirring a gelatinous mixture of ingredients in a small room in the middle of the slum. She explained the process and Samuel translated from her native Fuller language. The Fuller tribe is the third largest group in Sierra Leone. The soap is made with palm oil and an assortment of other ingredients culled from trees, plants and buckets of what looked like dirty water. In the end, I bought a small bag of her dried soap and used it this morning to hand-wash my expanding pile of dirty clothes. Miraculously, it foamed up and did a far superior job on my stained shirts and dusty pants. I’d been using small pouches of “Tide” from our expensive “ex-pat” grocery store but I’m now convinced that the homemade soap is the way to go.

Everyone has at least one mobile phone… and many carry more than one. There are three major suppliers of satellite phone service, Zain, which all the jhr folks use, Africell and Comium and the competition for customers is fierce. One of the little tricks these companies use is to limit the calls from one service to another… so, people have taken to carrying phones and service from each of the suppliers. A Zain phone is sometimes difficult to reach if you’re using an Africell service, for example. People might not have power for days on end; they may only eat one meal a day; and they probably work for free… but they carry two or three cell phones. Again, an interesting juxtaposition.

I’ve become a bit of a celebrity among the little children in our neighbourhood… There are about 30, ranging in age from about four to ten or twelve, who are home-schooled or sell things on the street and have extra time on their hands. They got a real “kick” out of my attempts to play soccer/football with them the other day. They were playing/kicking around a small bag of stones in an empty lot up the hill from the apartment. I regularly stop to chat and this time I tried to get in on their game… much to my own embarrassment and chagrin. I didn’t score a goal and they took great pride in teasing me, cajoling me and then trying to convince me to join them again another time. I’ll try to work on my goal-scoring skills in the meantime. They are incredibly affectionate and their smiles are infectious.

Checking in from Freetown… with lots more stories to tell.
Stephen