First week in Monrovia

The first thing you notice as you’re coming in to land over Liberia is that it’s very green. This isn’t surprising since it’s statistically one of the wettest parts of Africa. It’s not just the colour of the countryside that stands out but also the lack of ‘things’; roads, bridges, buildings, farms etc., that sets it aside from most other places I’ve seen from the air. But as the aircraft closes in on the runway the infinite expanse of jungle is suddenly punctuated by large white tents bearing nothing but two letters: UN.

After collecting my bags from a similar large, white tent and passing through ‘passport control’ (which consisted of a guy in a shed behind a wooden table) I met my driver, David, and hopped into a white Toyota Landcruiser to begin the drive into Monrovia. Toyota seem to be doing brisk business in Liberia. Every NGO owns at least one, not to mention all the UN Mission to Liberia (UNMIL) personnel – and there are a lot of them! In fact the white Toyota Landcruiser competes for dominance with only one other vehicle on the streets of Monrovia: the communal taxi. These clapped-out, yellow heaps splutter their way up and down the peninsula on which the city is situated, laden to bursting point with paying passengers. This is the only option the city’s commuters have given the almost total lack of public transport (a fact I find rather frustrating having lived in Stockholm for the last four and a half years where buses and trains will take you anywhere you want to go).

After briefly visiting ActionAid’s office and meeting my new boss, Ernest, I was shuttled over to my accommodation at a complex owned by the Lutheran Church in an area known as Sinkor. I initially thought I was the only occupant of the huge dilapidated guest house but I have since bumped into others in the gloomy corridors. Shortly after I arrived the sun started to go down which brought to light (or rather dark) the next logistical issue characteristic of the city – the lack of an electricity grid. Shortly after lighting a candle however I was relieved to hear a loud rumbling as my air-conditioning unit began blasting out refreshingly cold air. It was 7pm and the generator had been turned on. I could breathe again and turned on the light to inspect the place more closely. While my room certainly won’t win any awards for comfort, I shouldn’t complain given the conditions most of the local population are living in. I have a bathroom with a shower and running water, at least when the generator is turned on. Failing that I have an ‘en-suite bucket’ to pour cold water over myself at other times of the day if need be! What I don’t have is any way to prepare food and my fridge appears to heat things up rather than cool them down (I’m pretty sure it’s not an oven!). Supposedly I’m moving into a bigger, better-equipped room down the hall this week which is currently being renovated. I guess I’ll just try to suspend judgement until then…

My first week at work was as busy as I’d hoped it would be. The ActionAid team here are all very friendly and extremely competent and knowledgeable. After introductory meetings on Monday I set off to visit some projects in rural communities about three hours inland together with some of the staff from the office and a colleague from London who was here to run a series of workshops with partners and field staff. The route we took was partly by paved road (crossing through UN check points) and partly by heavily pot-holed dirt track. The projects we visited have been financed by the UK’s Big Lottery Fund and are aiming to provide skills training for women affected by the war. I was very impressed with what I saw, especially the level of engagement of the people involved. The countryside was beautiful and the villages were almost exactly how I’d rather stereotypically pictured a West African village to be. We were met by excited groups of small children wherever we arrived, waving and shouting “hello” and it was hard not to leave feeling optimistic despite the obvious level of poverty that people are faced with.

I would have loved to stay longer and learn more about the projects we are supporting Ernest called me back to Monrovia to work on a concept note for a new project which was to be submitted to the EC for funding before the end of the week. I was rather daunted by the prospect of being thrown in at the deep end but after an afternoon of brainstorming with colleagues in the Monrovia office we managed to pull it off and got the application in on time. Now we just have to wait and see if our project is short-listed, in which case we’ll submit a detailed proposal.

I’ve also been endeavouring to make new friends as quickly as possible – I’ve never been very good at being on my own! Thankfully it hasn’t been difficult and I got a good taste of Monrovia’s nightlife this weekend, being ‘forced’ to dance to some very cheesy music as well as sing karaoke. Monday was also a public holiday and I tagged along with two other NGO ex-pats for a day trip to the Bomi Lake where Pakistani peacekeepers have built a somewhat surreal artificial beach.
Well, now I’ve broken my silence and bored you all to tears I’ll sign off. I have a lot to get done, logistical issues to address (my internet connection is too slow for Scrabbulous among other things) and periodic bouts of homesickness but I’m enjoying it and looking forward to what lies ahead.