Arriving in Salone

*I wrote this on Monday evening after we arrived. It's written a little differently from my usual posts because it is straight out of my writing journal. I'm a little nervous to post something out of my journal but I thought it could more accurately not only our experiences but the feelings behind the experiences. I apologize again for no pictures.*

We arrived in Sweet Salone yesterday. When we landed, I still couldn’t believe we were back. Landing was a different experience this time. We arrived while it was still light and through the window I could see farms, rural houses, and green interrupted by the deep rust color of the land. Last time I arrived in the evening and I remember most distinctly the heat and how it quickly enveloped me in its embrace. It was completely dark making the heat’s touch more intense. The heat welcomed me this time as well. As soon as its warm embrace crept up my limbs a grin broke out on my face. I was really here. I was really back in Sierra Leone. The heat, confusion, chaos, and Krio of the airport reinforced my grin. I was really back.

The grin kept on through the chaos of immigration, managing our 7 bags, exchanging money, ignoring the impulse to speak Dutch in response to Krio, and dealing with friendly people trying to get tips from us. We were met by a driver from the university where we’ll be working. I breathed deeply through my nose and was reminded of the familiar scent that is Salone- sweat, heat, burnt earth, palm oil, and a subtle smokiness. My grin continued on the bumpy unpaved road and at the first yells of “opporto” (white man) from half-naked children. The grin didn’t disappear until our assumed 2 ½ hour drive to Makeni lengthened onwards to 4 hours.

We arrived at a dark compound that was a former leprosy camp. Hopefully, leprosy washes out of mattresses because we stayed for two nights in the converted guesthouse. We enjoyed an hour of power, courtesy of a generator, and running water. It was definitely more luxury than we were used to the last time we were in Makeni.

I woke up to the sound of the nuns who run the guesthouse singing and then drifted in and out of sleep while I heard children in the street, call to prayer, motor cycles, and general everyday life beginning. We spent our first day trying to adjust to being back and establishing a routine for ourselves. We were surprisingly successful, managing to send out approximately one email on the shoddy internet, finding a house to live in, and getting cell phones. As we walked around Makeni we noticed that there were changes but a lot was the same. Roads that were dirt lanes are now paved. There are sidewalks for pedestrians when before you had to walk on the street trying to avoid erratic vehicles. There are two grocery stores in town that have things we thought we would be without for 7 months- cheese, Haagen Daz ice cream, Baileys, and more. Granted these items are expensive and it’s difficult for us to justify paying so much for some little comfort when outside the grocery stores children and adults with polio and other afflictions beg for change. The poverty hasn’t changed. The children who sell wares instead of going to school haven’t changed. The phrase small-small, meaning slowly and generally used to refer to the level of progress, hasn’t changed.

After our first full day in Salone we sat on the porch of the guesthouse covered in bug spray and watched children in the street pretend to be members of a secret society. They sang, marched, pretended to collect money, and a couple of them acted like “devils.” For all of the newness and sameness, for the discouragement and the necessity of patience, there are moments like watching the children play in the street when my grin reappears and I think to myself- I’m really back.  

London!!!!!!

*Sorry for no pictures- and I do have fabulous pictures- but internet capabilities are limited and I'll try to post them at a later date*

I have so many exclamation points behind London because I absolutely loved it!!!!! We were flying out of Heathrow to Freetown so we decided to treat ourselves to a few days in London. I also think Gearoid was sucking up to me for leaving the comforts of the Netherlands for the almost guaranteed discomforts of West Africa. Whatever his motives, we had a wonderful time. I literally walked around the entire time with an ear splitting grin humming and singing Adele songs to myself. Everything I had seen in the movies about London were true (ok not really but it seemed so familiar to me from all of the movies I’ve seen). Also, people were speaking English. With sexy accents. I literally could have sat in a coffee shop all day and listened to people speak. Each time I leave the Netherlands for an English speaking country I forget how much I miss hearing, reading, and speaking my mother tongue. Yes, I can do all of that in the Netherlands as well but English always comes second to Dutch. I like to read a sign and be 100% confident I know the meaning of it. It takes me at least 3 bike rides going pass a Dutch sign to get the full meaning.

Our first night we made our way to the Eye, parliament, Big Ben, Westminster Abbey, and more Londony places. The streets were so busy and alive. It was refreshing to be in a big city again that doesn’t close at 5 PM every night except for on Thursday when life continues until 8PM (sorry for the snarkiness but that’s life in Nijmegen).

Friday morning I had a meeting with the head office of the program I’ll be volunteering with in Salone but afterwards we made our way to the Tower of London (where Anne Boleyn’s head was cut off!), Tower Bridge, the less impressive London Bridge, and Shakespeare’s globe theater. We then knackered (British lingoJ) ourselves out finishing some last minute shopping for Africa.

Saturday morning in London was not so charming. Many people had been out enjoying Friday night and the evidence of it was everywhere. Luckily, we had saved Hyde Park for our last day and we traded vomit spotted sidewalks to green grass and swan filled ponds. Hyde Park led to Kensington Gardens and Kensington Palace where the young royal newlyweds live. We then went to visit the Queen and her guards at Buckingham Palace. Walking back to the hotel for a rest before setting out again, we came upon cheap theater tickets and Gearoid sucked up- I mean treated me once again by purchasing Wicked tickets!!!!! For those of you who don’t know, I have been trying to see Wicked for years. It seems to only appear in cities that I have recently moved from. It’s playing in the Netherlands now but in Dutch. I couldn’t catch a break. Our last night in London, we saw Wicked and it was amazingly fabulous.

After a fantastic last night in London, it was really hard to believe that the next night we would be sleeping under mosquito nets in one of the world’s poorest countries. Somehow though, that is our reality. 

Den Haag and Tot Ziens Netherlands!

 * Sorry there are no pictures. It took me an hour to upload one. When I have better internet, I will add pictures to all my posts*

I have been a horrible blogger and I know it. There is good reason though. The last few weeks, Gearoid and I have been extremely busy packing up the life we spent 14 months developing to move back to Sierra Leone. Along with packing and clearing out our apartment, Gearoid had a conference in San Diego to attend, I had to finish with all my usual classes and afspraaks, and we had logistical things to finish up. Many of the logistical things included making several phone calls and writing several letters to Dutch officials ensuring that they know we are only temporarily leaving the country. We also had to make sure we were allowed to enter Sierra Leone and that meant getting a visa in Den Haag (The Hague).

We totally lucked out on the weather. The weather was vacillating between winter and spring and we were lucky to get a spring-borderline-summer day. The weather at that point was so gorgeous that I was afraid to admit it was spring in case I jinxed it (subsequently the next week the temperature dropped almost 20 degrees). Our trip to the Sierra Leonean consulate went without a hitch and we were soon free to spend the rest of the day walking around Den Haag. The city center was beautiful but the proximity to the beach was tempting so we hopped on a tram and made our way out to the sand and surf. I honestly believe that nobody goes to work when the weather is nice in the Netherlands because the beach was packed and most of the beach bars were full. We were able to find a place and enjoyed a beer and our toes in the sand.

The next day we were treated to more beautiful weather and decided to take a bike ride along the river. It was such a beautiful day we seriously questioned our sanity at leaving a Dutch spring/summer for the rainy season in malaria. When we finally return to the Netherlands in November, we will be back in time for a Dutch winter. Talk about bad timing.

We managed to get through the insanity of moving and the logistical knots which make up the Dutch system for practically everything and with bittersweet smiles said tot ziens which basically means until I see you again (literally it is “until seeing” but you get the point).