Mud and (weak attempts at) Surfing

Robertsport, Day Trip
Saturday, 20 June 2009

Ex-pats told us we would need a four wheel drive. Liberians told us that normal taxis would be fine. We believed the home people, primarily out of necessity – we didn’t know where or how to get a four wheel drive. Thus, three low-lying yellow and green taxi’s headed off on Saturday morning for a 2 hour drive to Robertsport, in Cape Mount County. The crew: my roommates Javi, Jenny, and Jacob, along with their Harvard classmates Momar and Oyebola, and then my classmate Kathy, along with “the Princeton girls” – Christine, Maura, Payal.

The main road was great – very smooth, nice, easy easy. After some slow going at the police and immigration check points (the other interns ID’s came in handy: “Office of the President”) we made it to the dirt road, passing grown men chiseling large rocks into small stones with small tools. The work looked slow and tedious, but they were each sitting next to huge piles of little stones. Impressive. It really wasn’t a terrible road at all. It has been flattened and is getting prepped to be tarred (thus the chiseling) – however, there are potions where they are laying drain pipes or doing other stuff – diversions that curve down off the main road and are usually filled with water. Rather muddy. Not easy deh for the low lying cabs. But we trucked along and along fine fine. Until Sidi, carrying the Princeton girls and Kathy, hit the mud.

A good amount of mud. Mud up to mid-tire, mud up to the bumper. Needless to say, the cab was stuck. We all unloaded out of the cars, preparing ourselves to push the car out. Corporations pay people good money to create these team building exercises like ropes courses and whatever else teambuilding people do, but really, they should just send people to Africa and have them figure it out. Teambuilding. It was fun – we – being Momar, Jacob, and our fantastic drivers – pushed the cab to solid ground. I was really quite ready to help, and did for a second, but I was standing right by the one wheel and had an image of slipping and getting run over, so stepped back to watch.

The rest of the ride was smooth – but with the police check point delays and the getting stuck, we didn’t get to Robertsport until after 12. Which was a bummer because we needed to leave around 5ish. It was cloudy but really rather beautiful – forest butting right up against the ocean, surfers dotting the water, kids hanging out under the trees, blown out buildings as the backdrop to the newer tourist tents. And not a single Bumster. It was glorious. Next time we go we’ll definitely stay over. The guys who made the movie Sliding Liberia, which I mentioned on here before, we there so we hung out with them and “used” their surfboards. Also met Albert, the Liberian surfer from the movie. Definitely check it out if you haven’t yet – it’s cool – and gives a good picture of Robertsport. Much better than I am painting with my words and pictures.

I mentioned we “used” their surf boards. It’s a loose term. It fits if by “used” you mean floated on before getting rocked by the massive and beautiful waves. In Costa Rica last year, I felt like quite the rock star. Both me and Amy were up on our first and second tries, and were clearly impressive to our instructor. He was especially impressed by our humility, which was funny because we were less than humble. Anyway, I was less than humble on my way to Robertsport. “Oh I love surfing.” “I’ve done it before.” “I’m not great, but. . .” Mmmm hmmm. Right, Maggie. The current was stronger, the waves were bigger, the board was smaller, and there was no one there to tell me exactly which wave to take and when to start paddling and even give me a little push so I could actually catch the wave. But no matter, I would have been rocked by the wave – like I was the one time I thought I was going to catch one.

I paddled my heart out. And then I was moving, face down on the board the wave was lifting me and lifting me and I kept paddling. The water foamed white around me and I push myself up from the board, ready to stand and impress myself and others. Then the board was gone. And I was upside down in the water, hands over my head to protect me from the missile-like board and having flashbacks to boogey boarding crashes at the Jersey shore as a kid. I was significantly less panicked than I used to be as a child getting rolled around under water as a wave has its way with you. Nonetheless, I popped up completely disoriented with my hair covering my eyes and spewing water out of my nose. Very similar to the Jersey days except with significantly less people and cleaner water.

That was the closest I came to surfing that day. Alas. Later, Albert, the Liberian surfing expert, took me and Jenny out to give us some lessons. He took us out far! This is when it becomes clear that I only spent a week at the Jersey each summer, and not months. I get nervous going too far away from the beach. But Albert took us out aways, near rocks. I’m a wimp with water, clearly, and now I will even reveal perhaps one of the most embarrassing things an aspiring surfer can admit: I get sea sick sitting on the surf board for too long. Seriously. It happened in Costa Rica. Ridiculous. I don’t even know – anyway, I didn’t get terribly sea sick on this trip, but much longer out there and it would have been a problem. I’m going to have to take Dramamine next time – because there will be a next time. I will stand up and surf in Liberia. Hopefully.

On the way home we only got stuck once, and a group of road workers in bright yellow slickers pushed us out. They were really cool. There was soooo much traffic in the market, so it took forever to get back to Monrovia. And then, just before the bridge to cross back into the city, our car died. Dead. Bam. Done. Luckily, another one of our parading cabs was right near us, and after some bickering over the price, we joined the other car. Ended the night with Bangladeshi food at a restaurant called B. First – 7 people, $28, and good food!

Once home, I finally hung up my mosquito net with the help of Jacob, one of my room mates. I wasn’t really getting terribly bitten before the last two nights. I attribute that to the fact that everyone else got their mosquito nets hooks put up for them a few days ago (for some reason I was skipped) and the mosquitoes were hungry and desperate. Usually they don’t like my blood too too much. So now I can sleep much better and wake up Malaria-free. :)

I posted the pictures of Robertsport – http://picasaweb.google.com/mtd933. Enjoy!
But also check out Sliding Liberia if you want to see cool surfing footage and interviews with people who lived through the war. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v0eru45CK5Y)