Returnees...

Monrovia 27-09-08

When the refugees return.

Repatriation is not an easy thing. More than anything it reminds me of driving cattle. The UNHCR sends several hundred people back, from Buduburam, every week, back to a capital that is overflowing with people.

The returnees stand in a big crowd outside the gate for the weighing ground, then they are put on buses and taken to the airport in Accra. From here they go to Monrovia, but first they wait some more, fill in papers upon papers. They get on the plane. When they reach Robertsfield Airport they again wait get their luggage and are put in the back of trucks, along with their luggage, and dropped on the way. Welcome home! It is interesting to see these trucks pass by. Especially when a person on the street sees someone he or she knows on the truck and the other way around. A dance of joy is taking place, hugs, screaming and jumping is going on until the truck takes off. You hear yells of “where are you?” and “I am here and here” “What is your number?”. What is interesting though, is that it is people from the camp greeting the ones just coming.

The welcome back from the average Liberian who has not been out is somewhat different. But that can have several reasons. The one which seems to be common among the returnees themselves is that, the Liberian who has been here all through is nervous. They know that the returnees come with new ideas and different ways. They have seen ways of doing things, and they as one put it are no longer living in the darkness. The trouble though is that the returnees have no where to go, they stop with families and friends, rejoicing in seeing them, but the joy ends soon. They cannot share a bed with a cousin or a friend for too long, they will overstay their welcome. So what to do. There are areas where displaced people have settled already during the war, but those are filled already and possibly will be removed by the government in coming years. Then people stay in abandoned buildings but most of these are owned by the government, so only few (families, not criminals) are allowed to stay there and only for a limited time period. The government regularly come to check and set people out. So they cannot go here, and finding a place to stay is a full time job, and tiresome. It can take months and it requires money as housing prices are going up with the number of people seeking places to stay. A room can easily cost USD 25-50 a month, depending on the standard. This might seem like little money, but when you have nothing, including no job, and you have to pay a year in advance, suddenly it is a lot of money.

You should then think that getting a job would not be too difficult, since many of the returnees have gotten some level of education in Ghana. But as before mentioned they believe many of the people who have jobs are keeping them from getting jobs. At least at the level where they move. When it comes to UN jobs and high level jobs, they still seem to believe that you are hired according to qualification. But for the medium and low level jobs, you need to have a friend who is already there.

This I believe enhances the “returnee” community. The people who has returned from the Camp have their own identity somehow. They will stop each other on the street “hey Ghana-man” or “hey Buduburam, how is it, when you came?”. They exchange numbers and special looks confirming to each other that they know... They share a history, they have a common past that no one who has been in Liberia all through can take part in, just as those returning cannot take complete part in the shared memory and history of those who did not go outside or to Ghana more specifically.

Liberia

Monrovia September 22 2008.

well I should of course have written this earlier when everything was fresh impressions, but I think my look upon things here is still new and I haven't been here so long that I have forgotten how it was coming.

To start with the in flight, that was interesting in itself. My first view of Liberia was from the water side coming into the airport. And it became very clear why they (colonists) called Liberia the “Green Coast” back when... everything was green. Basically there was bush and a river, two dirt roads and some small “villages” in the range of 5-10 houses in the middle of the bush. I was sitting and wondering if one of the dirt roads would suddenly turn into a landing field. But it didn't. A paved, not very long, landing lane turned up. The first thing I then saw on ground in Liberia was UN trucks and Helicopters lined up. I mean seriously, I saw more UN vehicles in the first 2 minutes in Liberia, than I have my entire life. Not that I have seen that many, but just to illustrate that there was quite a lot. I wonder what they need appx 10 helicopters for???

Well I got to the airport, a small building at the end of the landing strip... hehe, I forgot, the landing strip, this is an international airport... with ONE landing strip, meaning, the plane comes down, then turns on the same strip and goes back on it, and turns over in front of the building that is the terminal. I got through immigration, not without trouble, since the guy who did my visa made a mistake with the date, and just erased it with a pen, and put a new date. I had asked him if it would cause trouble, he said “no no no, then just let them call me”. Year like that is going to happen. But I got through it, even without paying the bribe money they initially wanted. I guess my comment of everything in Liberia being about money hit to close to home, and he felt that he needed to prove me wrong. :) which is kind of weird as I had already agreed to give him USD 10, then he just wanted to know if that was ok with me, and I said “well this is Africa” with a smile and then he gave me my passport and send me through without taking the money... So all is not about money. At least not at that moment...

I went to get my luggage and again had a very new experience. Before leaving the room where the luggage belt is, I had to give an officer my luggage number, and she checked if it was the same as on my backpack... I have never tried that before. But I guess it says something about the level of crime here if they expect travellers to steal each others luggage. Then through customs and out to the street, where to my relief Sam was waiting.

I have been here for 2 days now and it is very strange, I still am very confused about the money. Not so much the currency but I keep having the GhCedi in my mind, which is not completely as the USD but almost, but that gives the trouble of always calculating the price in cedi, to compare the level. And that takes time, plus it is a very annoying number. The rate for USD 1 is 62 Liberty (Liberian dollars), then when I get that then I again calculate into DKK. So a lot of math is going on when I go to the market. But I guess for now, I am trying to just know certain amounts and how much that is in cedi, at least until I get more familiar with the money here.

I have through the past two days seen quite a lot more UN vehicles, every other car or bus I see has large UN letters on it. 12000 men in the UNMIL (UN Mission in Liberia) takes up some space I guess. But what is also remarkable is how many Chinese people are here. It is almost like the Japanese at the little mermaid in CPH in the summertime. But then the Chinese embassy is the largest and newest building in town. At least as to what I have seen. And it is nice too. It looks like a luxury hotel from the outside. I guess that says something about the Chinese in Africa. One thing is for sure, there are a LOT of Chinese in Liberia.

As for my fieldwork, I think it will be very fine. I have seen Sam again of course, Samiera passed by right when I came, yesterday we walked around this area for a little while and I met Morris again (I haven't seen him since I left Camp last year), Alex also stopped by for a little time yesterday and today we went into Monrovia, and I met up with Jeremiah. Also we met Samiera's dad on the street in town today so I have plenty to start with. But I have promised myself to take some time and get adjusted before I start working to much. For now I am just soaking up impressions. And there are a lot of them. The environment here is somewhat strange. Well at least for a capital city. I am about 5 km from the town centre (I guess) but this seems more like a village or small town in a fairly distant district in Ghana. There is plenty space and it is very green. There is 1 paved road (the one that goes from Red Light straight across Monrovia) and then the small dirt roads on wither side. The houses are all from old mansions that have been burned or just neglected, where people are now staying, but not living like in the past, at all. Then there are all the old buildings, that used to be nice, which are now just standing as a ruin and then there are the shags and the nice houses. It is all one big mix. Also several half finished buildings are standing around. And was it not for all the people (IDP) coming a occupying it in lack of other places they would be ghost buildings. Several half constructed buildings, that were build by S. Doe and supposed to be ministries are like this. And apparently the government now don't want to finish the buildings as they are not their project. I don't know. It seems strange to me. Why not finish them, not necessarily as ministries, but then make apartments or something. I mean there are SO many people in Monrovia, and not at all enough housing... But then of course, who would have money to pay rent anyway???

We were walking around central Monrovia today. That is a strange town, it reminds me somehow of Baguio in the Phillipines. It has the Urban character, not question, to many people to little space, but it doesn't seem like a capital city. And the minute you move away from the direct centre of the town, you have so much nature around. I don't know how to explain it, but the atmosphere is just different. I mean it bears no comparison to Accra. The wires that give light are hanging across the streets, there are no tall buildings, the highest house is 3 stories, they are all rather old buildings, except the presidents mansion (under reconstruction) and the ministries they are tall, and getting a facelift. The roads are bad, and the atmosphere especially on Broad street (main street in town) is tense. Getting a taxi, where they fit 4 people in the bag is a STRUGGLE. I mean people are literally fighting each other off the car with their elbows, throwing themselves inside the cars. Also all electricity in houses comes from generators, so there is a constant brumming sound in the back, behind all the yelling. Hey Missy buy this or this... So in that sense it is very much like Accra, there is a LOT of attention to a white person walking the streets.

It is strange also, how at home I feel. In some ways it is like visiting a new town up north in Ghana, and like being on Camp, at least the area where I live. I don't feel like a stranger, I just feel like I am a bit lost from my normal route around. I mean. Like I am in a familiar area, but a new road. Its weird. But I guess this area reminds me a lot of the “village” on camp. The area also looks like the south of Ghana, the dirt is the same colour, it is close to the water, and there is a lot of nature around. Also the market is close, and looks like the covered market on camp.

What is lacking though is the current, we got a generator today, so at least I can charge my phone now and write. But argh, I am never going to like that sound. What on the other hand is here, is close to town, and supermarkets, but also a mini mart right next door, where I can buy frosted flakes, long lasting milk that is cold, mac and cheese... I mean, this is not an “American colony” for nothing... Oh, and there is a nice expensive expad restaurant about 400m up the road... This means it is 200 m from a self build shag with different fabrics, straws and a UN flag as walls which functions as a home. Also I am in a nice apartment, and the buildings in this yard are nice. But the closest house to my window is a house build from straw mats held up by a big pole on one side for it not to fall over... a nice mixture of elements...

Bole and mining...

Sunday 14 September
I am currently in Bole wich is in the in the Nothern region of Ghana. It is not to far from the boarder to Ivory Coast.. Which means it is very far form everything else… J But the nature around here is very nice… This area is mostly muslim, so there are mosques everywhere. I think it is impossible to walk for more than 3 minutes in Bole without passing a mosque. Yesterday we therefore went to see one. But we went to see the old mud and stick mosque. It was pretty cool. I was so amazed by it. It was quite small, but it was nice and COOL, I really don’t get how it is possible in the kind of heat we had yesterday that the inside of the mosque was so cool. It was so nice, no need for fans or anything. I know that the mud houses alegendly is the only way to keep a bouse cool in Africa, but still I was surprised by how cool and nice it actualy was. Howcome, with all the modern technology the only way to keep houses cool now are fans and AC (which makes you sick!)? This mosque was build almost 200 years ago according to the guide and is one of the nicest places I have been in when to comes to temperature. So that was nice.
Today (Sunday) we were supposed to go see a mining villae about an hourfrom here, buuut it has been raining all morning. So that is prosponed indefenetly… Which means I am not going as I am heading back south on Tuesday. Uh, and the back to camp Wednesday to pack (and wash) and then by Saturday I am heading to Liberia… That is so crazy…

Well as for Camp. It is so strange, I have barely been there this time around. I feel I have spend most of my time in Accra or back and forth to Accra. And I am not sure why… But I have done basically all I wanted to do on Camp anyways, when it comes to my fieldwork anyways. I have done several interviews, and some patterns are emerging. Now I just have to write that down. That is the tricky part. I am really bad at the fieldnotes. But I hope that by the time I get my interviews transcribed (arrggghhh) I will be better at noting these things and writing them down. But actuall it has been quite difficult with the last few interviews as I have already had time to relefct on the first ones, so when interviewing it is hard only to write the answers down and not also writing all my own thoughts down at the sam time. But I guess that is wat I need to sit down and do now when I go over the interviews again. Oh, so much work and so many other things I would rather do.
But I think before I start working in Liberia I need to have sorted most of my notes and interviews from Ghana so I can keep a bit of perspective. Therefore I beive it is a good thing I have given myself between 2-4 weeks in Liberia to get settled and tie ends from Ghana before I start interviewing in Liberia. Also I really need to get aquinted with Monrovia. It will be so strange going, and having absoluty no idea where I am. But I am exited (and scared) none the less.
The hard part about going to Libera is leaving people here behinde (again) but most of them are coming to Liberia within the next few months, and majority of the people I know are already there. I just need to go and find them… Tiny challenge there…

Well back to my trip to the north of Ghana. I am staying with Sia (Danish intern for IBIS) in her very nice little house (I am so hoing I am going to live in something like this i Monrovia). It has been great being here but also quite the experience. See things here takes more time for a reason. Well I guess it is a bit strange, but for example. Sia normally has running water from Tuesday to Thurday BUT last night the water came on. Which was great for showering this morning (VERY COLD though), buuuuuttt the little trick is, that the water fosset in the bathroom had been left on and the angle of the water is very high on the edge of the zink, which means that the water splaches over the edge… Anyone who has guessed what that means??? Well, I heard the water, but thought it was just raining a lot… So for over an hour the water was fossing all over the floor. And things here are rarely straight, which means after the bathroom floor was covered with water, a small river across the bed/lving room was created, and made a pool in front of the kitchen door from here a nev river was created that flooded (literally) the kitchen floor. Sia picked 21 liters of water up from the kitchen with a dust pan… and I mobbed about 3 liters of water from the floor in the other rooms… So this was all before 8 this morning. Then we wanted breakfast… Just oats and musli with cold milk. Now milk, well it exists but requires a fridge (which is on its way tomorrow I guess) so that is not a option. Instead powder milk is the way to go, so Sia went to buy cold water so we could make cold milk… And then it started raining. I mean really raining… So she dicided to run back, resulting in her dropping the bag with the two bags of water… So she came home put on her raincoat and went again… Whie she was gone I wanted to clean up from last nights dinner, resulting in me smashing 2 of her 4 glasses (sorry) all over the kitchen floor. Then Sia was back, breakfast on the way, exept… When we opened the box with the oats and stuff it was full of ants (not jus any ants, but super hyper ants, comletly impossible o flick off a bag) and in my attempt to get this evel ant of the bag wit oats I flicked it so hard that I dropped it, and left half the bag of oats on the kitchen floor (oh year and the ant too). The kitchen floor which is at this moment still wet, took the oats with kindness, and has made it almost impossible to get all the oast of the floor. So that will happen in a few days when the floor is actually dry…
But this now leaves me with over 2 hours where no miniature disasters has happend in this house. I am hoping the rest of the day will continue that way.

Monday 15 September
I can now say that the day changed. Actually very much. We ended up going to a small village not too far from here, where they aremining for gold. That was quite an interesting experience. We got to see the shafts where they climb down about 30 m into the ground and bang on the walls to get the dirt out and the gold out. The shafts are extremly narrow, and supported either by wood on each side all the way down, or for the wider ones (still very narrow) the walls are just clay, with wholes in the sides so they can climb up and down... Year.... I was offered to try, but passed. It was far into the ground it was sark, and the sides was wet. Not thanks I have no desire to climb down a caly side like that... I really ahve no desire to climb down a clay side into the ground no matter if it rains. But none the less it was super interesting. We was shown how they wash the gold, and how they dy it and pound it... It is not by any means an easy process to get the gold dust out of the mud... But we actually saw gold dust, one of the guys washed some mud for us and there it was, shiny gold dust... getting it from the mud the... quite another process. using mercury (ih maybe not rightly spelled, but is sounds like that, its the stuff that is inside thermometers)...

We also went and saw the village. Now I might live in a refugee settlement, but wow. The main street (well, it was a main street, the cize of a bikelane) was mud, I mean mud, it was raining remember. And all the houses were of straw... no current, but plenty generators. Though there were more permanent houses being build... year. It was super amazing. and the people ho live there come from all over the country to mine for the gold. Is like a story from Lucky Luke or something... Except they didn't really see to "strike gold". But I was told that there is plenty gold, for industrial mining it should last 10 years... So when they find gold, I guess they can live comfortably, at least if they own the consession for it... But they didn't look that comfortable, though it didn't seem like they were poor (relativly) either. They didn't seem starving at least... I guess that is the difference to Camp. There people live in nice houses and have a "city" but they starve, here the physicalside of it was more primitive, but they seemed ´"content" somehow... But then what do I knowI was there for 1 hour... But would have loved to be a real anthropologist there... wow. It was fascinating...

So in relation to my previous blog, I guess I am pretty happy about being here, and for now, this is my life. Its still wierd though... And now Sia and I will go and try to find some lunch... maybe eggs or rice... uhh the choices...

Inbetween worlds....

There are times when I tend to forget where I am. I can lie here on my very very FLAT mattress, having half my body smashed into the concrete floor, with the fan on to keep the air moving. I can hear people talking or arguing in a strange language I have no way of understanding, I eat of plastic plates, I cook on a gas burner and I have to check my bread for ants before even thinking about eating it, oh year and I get and pay for water by the gallon or the bucket... But somehow it can all be put aside when Sex and the City is on the computer. I doesn't really matter which episode or how many times I have seen it just as long as it is there. The torture however comes when the episode finishes, and you realize that the pain in your hip is not from lying on the remote, but from the pre discussed concrete floor, and it has left a bruise (this could possibly be avoided by loosing some kilos, buuuuttt, that is a different story, and then again you should think the extra fat on the side of the hip would counteract the extra kilos pressing on it.. WRONG!). The point is, it is difficult being between two worlds. The girls spend SO much time in restaurants and actually eating food, that is to say food, I cannot get. The whole time I have been here with the girls (not the Sex and the city ones, the ones who stayed with me here) we have talked about the things we missed - mostly food. Basically that is what our lives comes down to (besides from the sex conversations, but there is no reason to miss that here, unless you want to). When we eat we talk about the food we cannot have, when we don't eat we talk about the food we miss, and even when we get the food we want we still talk about the food we cannot have... Why??? why this constant torture of ourselves?
Two of the girls have now gone home, when I talk to them they miss everything about being here, again why? They now have access to all the things I miss, a real kitchen, a real stove (meaning an oven included), running water, hot water not to mention and any kind of food they want... Why then do they miss the things here? Are we made to always miss what we don't have?? And would I have it here, if I could? I mean. Theoretically I could live in Accra, have a kitchen a bathroom with running water and a water heater, access to all the restaurants any city provides, but I wouldn't want to live thee. I would feel I missed the experience of being here... So what is the point? I sit here, I watch different films and tv shows, just to remind myself where I am not. It is like the Sunday evenings you spend with your best single girlfriend watching romantic films just to rub it in. And then you have your other friends who are in the relationships, wondering if they are actually finished being single. Hmm. Does it all come down to the same thing, do we just want what we don't have, just because we can want it? I don't get it...
hmm, something to think about..
What I do get however, is the fact that I have my very own tailor(s) who make clothes just for me, like I want them (with an African touch) and I get to spent my weekends on the beach... which unfortiunatly means I have a fairly burned back today... :)

Tro-tro (små penge)

Hehe,
I have to tell this story, It linkt to absolutly nothing, but it is funny.
You know how we in Euprope tned to belive certain things have to be in a car to drive it. Like a key, or a thing to put the key in at least, or, a speedometer or buttons for lights etc.. Well. All seems to be unnecessary...

A car can drive perfectly well (in Ghanaian context) if the wires, the stering wheel and the pedals are there. seriously, where I sat I could look through the front, next to teh speaker (of course) past the radiator and on to the road!!!
The car was started by, twisting two wires under the dashboard (well what was left of it), this was apparently for the preheating (a diesel car we are talking about). Then the car was started by two other wires being ut together, to shortcircut, I think. And woila, here we go...

who needs all that fancy stuff anyway...

a wedding happend.... (I think)

05-09-08
I cannot believe we are already in September.. That is so crazy. Hmm, 2 weeks before I go to Liberia I start prioritizing my fieldwork again, might be a little late, but then again, I still have 3 months of field studies in Liberia. So I guess I will be ok. But to start with the beginning, since it has been some time now.
Trine and Erika left Sunday, the day after Trines wedding. I bailed Saturday night to go to an Aid effectiveness conference in Accra. But first things first. Trine and Sam got married. That was quite the event. We got up fairly early (ca 05 o'clock) to be sure all was ready on time... he he he... well, at least to try. But actually things worked out ok, by short after 6 we were ready to go, BUT then the little detail of the car not showing became an issue. The night before Sam and the boys had arranged with a guy to come and drive them to and from the court, which he then decided not to do.. Thanks.. :) Well luckily there were some resourceful people in the room. So down to the station and shanghai a Tro Tro (the public transport of Ghana, further explanation will come later) to take us back and forth. So 15 min after this the Tro Tro came. We started to get in, BUT then the groom decided he was hungry!!! So he took of, in slow walk, to find some food... Lucky for him the bride didn't see this, she was inside crying because her future husband was about to see her in her dress for the first time. Well I guess he was, but not for another half hour... Anyways at this point we also realised that the champaign was still in Deborah's freezer, so Princess went to get that. Meanwhile the rest of us got in the Tro Tro and waited, we went down to the road, and waited... And then here comes the groom nice and easy walk (now the time is almost 07 o'clock) stands in front of the Tro Tro ( I mean like 10 m away facing us) and urinates... :D Ehm.. well... I guess he didn't realize that his whole wedding party was sitting there looking at that... I can say that by this time, I am not sure if Trine was still convinced that this was the man for her. But at least she didn't beat him or anything when he finally got in the Tro Tro, but also she didn't really speak to him... That is quite understandable though. Well, trouble now was, that Princess hadn't turned up yet. So we waited some more. By the time w decided to just go and leave the champaign she came, I guess 10 or 15 after 7 (here I can share that though she new we were all waiting to go, she had had time to change her clothes also so she could go with us to the court (which initially was not the plan)). Anyways we got on the road, and Thomas (the best man) got a call from Lavelah that we were first up, so the wedding would be between 8 and 8.15. Now anyone familiar with in to town traffic will know that we were on an impossible mission. Camp is about 45 km from Accra which doesn't take much time, except from the police and toll barrier, BUT Accra Traffic. That takes time. However, someone must have really wanted them to get married because by 8.15 we were outside the court (this was late of course since they were supposed to get married at that time, but still pretty good time). So we hustled upstairs and into the room where about 200 people were seated, here off about 50 couples to get married. We got in while the first couple got married (Lavelah had talked to the guy doing the marrying and apparently agreed to take 1 or 2 couples before us, since we were late). So we got in waited about 15 minutes and then Sam and Trine was up. 15 min later they were man and wife, and we went out to get champaign and pictures.. :) So in the end, it was a success. We went back to camp, got settled and prepared, and by 15 o'clock we were almost ready for the party, except the only people who were there at 15 o'clock was the ones not invited... But by 4 most people from the invitation list were also there, so we started. That however presented a whole new problem, as we only had plates for about 60 people (the target for the wedding was 40) but the turnout was closer to 100 when they were at the largest number. But somehow I think all ate, the food was plenty, it was the plates that created the largest challenge, they were disposables, and couldn't really take the whole concept of tripling as plates... But I think all got food in the end. Luckily not too many liked the desert, so the plates were ok for that. We liked the desert though, fruit salad and fresh home-made yoghurt... So nice on top of some very heavy African vegetables stew and rice (and I don't even like yoghurt).
In the end the cake was cut, and I went to Accra for a two days conference, I got back on tuesday, to find the house still standing, but several things missing, like half of our plates, a half tin of powder milk, our flour, our big knife, the gaffa tape and several of our lotions.. Well I guess that is what you get for having 100 strangers in your house... :)