The Waiting Game

Monrovia isn't the worst place in the world, at all. But I really enjoy getting out of here. I know I need to be based here to meet with people and discuss things that are going on. However, it’s really frustrating because I find myself just waiting for meetings, and then often they get cancelled. I just had a misunderstanding with a woman from the Ministry of Gender and Development. We had a 1:30 meeting but I called her to tell her that I needed to be back at MIA by 2:45 for a 3 o’clock meeting. I wanted to make sure that our 1:30 meeting time meant 1:30 and not 2:15 or 2:30, as often happens. I showed up at 1 (because I wasn’t doing anything else), wait until 1:45, and then find out she misunderstood my rather poor Liberian English (totally my fault) and thought I wanted to meet her at 3. We’ll have to reschedule. So when I’m in Monrovia I have stuff I should be doing, but it all involves working into other people’s schedules. If PC taught me anything it was the ability to wait weeks or months or even years for things to get done. I can do that no problem sitting under a mango tree chatting and cooking attaya. But sitting at a desk in a suit just waiting, waiting, and waiting . . . it’s just not healthy or right. It’s not the waiting that kills me, it’s the location.

Also, in perfect karmatic fashion after complaining about how cold the offices are here: I walked all the way back from the Ministry of Gender and Dev today, it’s actually not far - only about a 20 minute walk. But in the hot hot sun, me I sweat tooooo much, and then I return to my office only to find it sweltering – the air conditioner broke. The one time I want it to be freezing, I am now sitting in a pool of my own sweat, in my suit, waiting to meet with my Minister, insssaaaaaa Allah! This meeting has been scheduled multiple times and keeps just not happening. To be fair, he’s a rock star and is quite busy. Not meeting with him doesn’t frustrate me as much because I know he’s not sitting up in his office hanging out. I thought he was Ellen’s cousin, but then someone told me last night they were brother/sister, I’m not sure – but in either case, they are quite close. When she leaves the country, he is acting-President. So he’s got some power here. But hopefully today we can chat about community based farming initiatives and see what his vision is.

Tomorrow, I am heading to a place called Bong Mines. A friend of mine, Megan, who works here for the Niapele Project has a partnership with their women’s farming group (here’s their info on the project: http://www.theniapeleproject.org/blog/story-field-women-malaya and
http://picasaweb.google.com/msullivan215/Malaya#). So I want to go check it out and just get an idea of how successful communal farms function. Probably a good thing for me to know :) I’ll stay there until Thursday, then head back to Monrovia. Friday is a day trip to Bassa County, and then I may head back to Gbarnga again on Sunday for a BBQ/possible work related meetings on Monday, and then Tuesday another day trip to Bomi County. During those seven glorious days out of the office, I should be able to set up some meetings for later next week, and will also have some information to organize and case study stuff to type up.

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So I just got out my meeting with the Minister - it went well-ish. Didn't find out anything new or really get a better idea of who to talk to, but just solidified my jobs. I do really need to start focusing more on the administrative task: basically setting up a template system for admin and accounting that can be used in the 148 "cities" throughout the country. It's time sensative. . . meaning it needs to be done by next week, which doesn't play well into my seven office-less day plan. I've contacted the one guy I am waiting to hear from, but I have not yet heard back. If I have to come back early to meet with him on Thursday, I'll do that. But I'm not coming in to the office tomorrow to sit at a desk and wait more. It'll be great to check out this farm and see what's going on . . . . .

We hired a local woman to cook for us three nights a week. Living with 8 people in a small kitchen makes it difficult for all of us to cook our own meals. Last night was the first night: Potato greens (the leaves of the potato plant = delicious) over rice. It's good. Tonight it my favorite: Check rice and sauce. West African dishes are notoriously heavy on the oil. These are no different. Yet I am determined that on this trip to Africa I will not gain excessive amounts of weight. So even though I absolutely love oil soaked rice dishes (seriously), I am only trying to eat them three times a week. There's just something not right about gaining so much weight in developing countries, a feat that I have consistently accomplished throughout my life.

Closing sidenote on a lesson learnt: Be stingy with number giving. A man who helped me find a carpark the other day and who I talked to a bit about farming stuff, asked for my number. He saw me use my phone, I couldn't lie and say I didn't have one. And I didn't mind, he seemed nice. So I gave him the number. Thought nothing of it, figured he may or may not call. Oh, oh, oh, he called. 21 times since noon today. 21 times. No more number giving. Ever.