Back to Monrovia 3/21

An interesting ride, we stopped to buy some fruits and veggies, and even some palm wine. Highlight was our driver (Liberian male) who kept humming along and replaying Gretchen Wilson's song "Redneck Woman" as we drove back through the jungle. Spooky driving past some of the major camps where Charles Taylor's men were based. Saw a few of the coves where people were taken to be tortured as well. Haunting.

Ganta - 3/20

Interesting day. Good interviews in this bustling town. Started off with a bowl of oatmeal I kept down and progressed to meetings with the Mayor, the radio station manager and several reporters, a professor from the bible college, Liberian border guards, Guinean truckers, Liberian laborer, Guinean border guards-a very easy border to cross(! wasn’t even expected to bribe anyone), the Imam of the mosque and several members, and members of the leper colony outside of town that the Catholics housed and the Methodists trained in carving and weaving, the hotel owner, and had most of them indoors-nice to be out of direct sunlight, but the radio station in particular was sweltering. The team is leaving in high spirits, and hopefully ready to tackle the analysis which lies ahead next week! We’re departing early tomorrow and should be back not long after noon. The mayor was really inspiring, a true symbol of hope and what forgiveness can bring. He is a former warlord and shared stories about how “his boys” often turn to him to address issues as a group. He repeatedly tells them, and other ex-combatants who mobilize around their leaders to leave and approach their representatives in government.

African Diet - 3/20

Well, despite avoiding whatever kept hitting my team in Yemen, I think the bug finally caught up to me. Had a long night, and tore muscles in my back vomiting after a rough bout of food poisoning. Not fun at all. Nothing makes me feel more like a mama’s boy either. Just wanted to go home and lie down on the cool tiles and not have to worry about bugs crawling on me! I got up the next morning to find one of my other teammates was hit by it as well. The one who is up-country and eats out on the streets. So, while our team went out to gather data, we spent the day crashed in bed, a bit oblivious to the fact that we were cooking in the room. I’m not sure when my fever broke, but my stomach was barely ready for the hour long trip to Ganta that afternoon. Both Sean and I made it, had some crackers and sodas at dinner, and I crashed yet again, sleeping well, unfortunately, he was sick again that night. I guess the only positive thing of the experience is that it allowed me to cut back on some of the impact of the buffets I’d eaten my first few days in Monrovia. Driving to Ganta, I couldn’t help but wonder again why Africans don’t walk in the bush instead of on the dirt roads where they are covered by a film of dust. I would be so frustrated by the cars that left me choking in their clouds of dust as they drove by if I were coming back from the farm-especially if I had a big bundle of firewood or crops I was bringing in to market. It would only take a day or two to carve a path just off the road but protected by rows of trees and brush. Maybe one day there will be an uprising of dusty people against motorists…

Yekepa - 3/19

Pretty town, but depressing. A large iron mining company was based here and mined Mount Nimba and another location nearby. The company impacted a broad area by employing thousands. Similar to what I saw in other African countries, the company provided housing, schools, health clinics, etc for the people. The remains of the infrastructure dotted the landscape with brick walls that jutted out of the brush. There would be a lot more of the infrastructure left if those who returned following the war had livelihoods to turn to. Instead, one of the few sources of funds was the metal sheeting on roofs, some of the mining equipment, selling the doors and windows across the border in Guinea etc. Places that weren’t occupied were stripped bare. The few pockmarked buildings that were riddled with automatic fire paled in comparison to the number of shells of buildings that had everything looted. Mount Nimba, looming above the town was really inspiring. At the base, water had collected in the former quarry with hulking pieces of machinery scattered about the base.

Corruption - 3/19

I still struggle with the concept. In many societies Westerners write it off as being part of the traditional culture. If that is the case, why do we care? More importantly, if that is the case, why do the people care? Has globalization imparted aspects of Western values at the lower levels of society but not among the powerful? Are people simply feeling like they aren’t getting their fair share of external assistance which for some reason might not fall under traditional values?

Helicopters! 3/17

Yay! My team scored a trip up to Nimba on the UN chopper. It was a big Russian one, like those in Afghanistan, but just with a row of seats along the outside facing in, not near as comfy, or as amenable to sightseeing. Nevertheless, I managed to stare out the window for most of the ride. Despite it being the peak of the season for clearing land, I felt like the rainforest was quite healthy. It was sad watching acres go up in smoke, but a relief to see the jungle moving in to seize abandoned plots and covert it back to the natural state of the land. The only places this didn’t seem a possibility were the massive plantations scattered across the country-side raising palm, rubber, and coca. The view was a stark contrast to the barrenness of Afghanistan. The lush green hid many secrets beneath. The occasional hut was visible from time to time. The impact of NGOs and missionaries was evident through intermittent clusters of shiny new tin sheeting on roofs. The arrival and departure of the helicopter was quite an exciting event for the community. It was rewarding to be on the flight with a few different groups of Bangladeshi soldiers heading out to post. Upon landing we struck out interviewing what seemed like 15 “officials”. All directors in some form or fashion of their government agency at the border with Luoguatuo. We spoke with some of the guards, police, the UN post, the men hauling truckloads of goods across the feeble bridge that won’t hold cars, some guards on the Ivory Coast side, women in the market, children, and a few passers-by. Monrovia was hot, but I could tolerate the short bursts I was exposed to. Here, the index over 110 that was difficult to escape was wilting.

US Embassy-Monrovia - 3/15

Unlike other places I’ve been, I love this compound. Going in to meetings is great as you wind through the lush trees framing views of the ocean just below. Small fishing boats trolled past as they went out to cast their nets and the natural rocks and landscape have basically been preserved among the complex of office buildings and houses. They even have a tennis/basketball court that is perched on a cliff above the ocean. Spectacular views were only interrupted by the Saharan sandstorm which reduced visibility.

Monrovia - 3/14

Interesting place. Thriving, humming, and broken all at the same time. Little if any electricity, poor water, little sanitation, housing crises exacerbated by internally displaced people and refugees from surrounding conflicts, a poor police force, an educational system that isn’t getting the thousands of kids off the streets and into schools. Things are no longer desperate here, but there is a reason for concern. The people are open, warm, friendly, and feel both entitled and abandoned. I hope the world won’t turn its back on Liberia too soon as it has almost found its feet. The influence of the US here is palpable, from the Ambassadors regular appearance in the papers to the design of the flag. There is clearly a special relationship that is bittersweet. The freed slaves which returned to Liberia have created an elite class that while binding the country to the US, also economically suppresses the indigenous people to this day.

Ghana Day 2 - 3/12

First, we headed downtown, found our way to the lighthouse, and figured out a way to get up to the top. Luckily both of us were scared of heights, so there wasn’t any rushing! At the top, the view was quite impressive. Though Accra has some big buildings, the lighthouse offered quite the vista. From there, we determined our course of action and wound our way back down. We headed over to the part of the beach where they were slaughtering goats and preparing them for market. It was a strange site, vultures picking up the few scraps, specialists in each step, from the younger boys going to the sea to get buckets of water to clean the area where they were shaving and preparing the intestines to the guys killing the goats to the roasters. It is never difficult for me to understand why someone is a vegetarian. From there, we went out along the coast to the part of the shore where the fishermen dock on the beach (if you can say that?). The boats were packed in tight and some of the crews were repairing nets. It seemed like an easier life than I expected as they generally only go out 3-4 hours a day. Next stop, a castle! Unfortunately, this one had few of the exciting tales of armored knights and held many more of slaves brought from across Western Africa to be shipped to the Americas. To add indignity to the horror, it was also used to hold political prisoners during the struggle for Ghanaian independence. We wound our way through the cells, and I was surprised to find the artwork of the prisoners still there. Dave enjoys learning much more than I do and the part which the EU funded to turn into a museum was similar to my 8th Grade social studies textbook. So our occasional question about Harriet Tubman, Fredrick Douglas, etc. seemed to take them off-guard. Ghana is hot. Ghana indoors without fans, open windows, or AC, is hotter. We got out of there dehydrated and weakened. On our way to meet Meredith for lunch, we stopped and downed some cold water which seemed particularly delicious! After a good lunch, we headed over to the national museum and checked out the exhibits there. My colleagues gave me a hard time for wanting to relax in Ghana for a couple of days, but I thought it was great-especially the Red Red (black-eyed peas in a tomato sauce over fried plantains). My only real complaint? They have GOT to get their sewage system working. It is pointless to have treatment facilities if they aren’t maintained…and the beaches are foul enough people generally don’t go near them. Luckily I don’t enjoy fish, because there is a lot of seafood in Accra, but I sure wouldn’t want to eat anything that was caught close to the coast that serves as a septic tank for 2 million people.

Safe and Sound in Ghana - 3/11

On my way to Liberia, my supervisor suggested I take a day or two off. That was all the excuse I needed to visit Dave and Meredith in Accra. They had recently moved there and I’ve wanted to go to Ghana for a long time. I tried to get in touch with one of my friends from Cape Town but didn’t have any luck. Nevertheless, after a loooong flight (who knew it would be 8 hours from Yemen to Ghana, it is just a few inches away on a map) and several movies, I drug myself into the hotel, cranked up the AC, collapsed for a few minutes, and then gave Dave a call. He was ready to roll came to pick me up with mangos and a packet of Kingsbite (Ghanaian chocolate) and we headed out to an artisanal gallery where I got to see some of the work they do with cloth, paintings, masks, and even the famous coffins which I find so fascinating. They had some shaped like fish, coke bottles, and a tennis shoe on display. Maybe I’d want to be buried inside a Pal’s peanut butter shake or perhaps a blue ridge mountain? It was a tough one. I figured a racing shell might be good and serve as a better fit than a basketball or volleyball. From there, we headed home, chatted with Meredith for a while and then went out to eat. We had a good meal, which became more entertaining watching Dave trying to eat his okra stew that was just a big mess. After a lot of catching up, they dropped me off at the Golden Tulip with a plan for tomorrow.

Hasty Departure - 3/10

My last day in Yemen was packed, moved from one meeting to the next, and tried to make sure as many loose ends as possible were tied up. It ended up being to no avail as a lot of tinkering still needed to be done with the programming of the 1207 funds in order to bring them up to an acceptable approach. Nevertheless, our meeting at the end of the day with the Ambassador ran far beyond the anticipated 30 minutes. My flight which was to depart at 7 had me slightly concerned as I was told sometimes Yemeni Airways opts to depart early for reasons still unclear to the Americans that worked at the Embassy. The 4:00 meeting ran on and on, at 5:30, we finally wrapped up. There was a great deal of support for the work we had done, and signs looked positive for my office’s ability to support Yemen in the future if so desired. However, signs weren’t looking positive for my departure from the airport. I ran out of the office and said some quick goodbyes to team-mates and jumped in the suburban. My driver was probably even more concerned than I was. Off we went. I think being a driver must get boring at times, and this perhaps was just the necessary excuse to “knock some carbon out” as my grandmother used to say (and I’m still not quite sure what that stemmed from). The horn was liberally applied, lights flashed, sirens wailed…and people were pushed to the edge of the road as we came barreling through. To make matters more interesting, the driver thought we could shave off a few minutes if we went a residential route, so we tore past kids heading home from school, and even the break-up of a wedding party. I was relieved to see the airport-and arrived, only to find that tonight, my flight wasn’t taking off early, but was delayed two hours! Nice…

Militarization of US foreign policy - early March

Now some time for a bit of pontificating. When I worked construction, I loved having my framing hammer at my side. In a pinch, it could work as a screwdriver, measuring tape, wire stripper, tin snips, paint scraper, trowel, and more if I thought a bit harder. However, it wasn’t as good as any of those other tools at getting the respective job done. We Americans have been sold a rotten apple and it isn’t fair to the taxpayers, the international community, and especially to our soldiers. Due to a brilliant cadre of lobbyists, and politicians on both sides who feel that any questioning of support for defense is unpatriotic, we’ve built a massive hammer. What are the results? Look to Haiti, where we sent thousands down, to support a Humanitarian effort. Look at Yemen, where a few members of Al Quaeda will drain $1.5 BILLION over the next few years. I can guarantee you that because of the ability to point to a “boogeyman” no-one on the hill will question these funds. This occurs, despite the fact that USAID and other agencies are being hassled about how they can find the internal capacity to absorb $130 Million over the same period of time. Note that Yemen has some of the highest fertility rates, lowest literacy rates, highest mother/child morbidity rates, and lowest revenue generating rates in the world. Despite this huge need, and a general positive predisposition to the US, our ability to build resiliency within Yemen is hindered by lack of lobbyists. As a result, the hammer will be used as our men in uniform do their best to work hand-in-hand with USAID to support their efforts as best they can. Despite standing up to their headquarters, at the end of the day, they have to fall in line. Some might favor the approach of the hammer. Note the good it did us in Afghanistan. The former commanding General of all of Special Operations ended up ending special operations except in rare circumstances because they were generating more support for the enemy. As a country, we have to learn to recognize the value of soft power or we will be doomed to repeat the mistakes of those before us. History illustrates time and again how global hegemons overextend their reach militarily and are brought down, militarily, economically, or through a simple effort to balance power. All seem to be in process right now. Our soldiers are being worn out, retention has plummeted over the last decade, PTSD has skyrocketed, families are strained, and more. They are being asked to conduct missions which they weren’t trained for because our country has developed a bellicose pompousness that we promote but refuse to explore the consequences of the broken lives, the shattered alliances, and the polarizing effect it has across the globe. By leveraging all “tools in our toolbelt/kit” the US could address the global problems it faces with much more wisdom and foresight. I pray this begins to happen before it is too late for us as a country. For those of you rolling your eyes, please read up on some of the many public statements that Secretary of Defense Gates has made concerning funding over the past couple of years.

Short-term benefits or long-term gains? - early March

What do you prioritize when there are severe potential consequences for choosing one over the other? If the world chases the “bad guys” we simply polarize the population which was neutral or sometimes supporting the “good guys”. We’ve seen it time and again-West Bank/Gaza, South Africa, Lebanon, Afghanistan, Colombia, Iraq, Northern Ireland, Vietnam, etc. If you target those you fear may do you harm, you generally just create more. Unfortunately, the alternative is living through a period of insecurity as you work with local populations to build good-will and governance structures that allows them the freedom to address such security risks. We’ve tried to strike a balance after we fell on our face in Iraq by moving in with serious numbers of troops to provide the sense of security that people begin to take ownership of their environment. In Afghanistan, we haven’t come close to providing the amount of support needed to try to strike that same balance between the two, and we will not engage the “bad guys” in Yemen as we have in these other places. More connections are what is needed, between people and their government, between extremists and those they deem to be infidels. That human connection at the end of the day is what begins to draw the tensions to a close. How to create that space for understanding is just another challenge.

Driving - early March

As stories from work would really only excite those working in strategic planning, I’ll share a bit about the driving here. I’ve experienced a lot of different systems, but this has got to be one of the most unique. It actually is a broader scale of my style of driving. There are very few stoplights around the city, less than 10 for sure. On top of these, there are a few traffic circles where sometimes you can find a policeman. Outside of that, there isn’t much regulation. However, the roads, like the people are generally quite polite. People don’t jet out in front of traffic to make turns, they just ease out taking a bit of a lane, half a lane, etc, til the oncoming traffic determines it should be polite and let others cross. This does require quite a few taps of the horn, but it is rare they are long and aggressive, but often just used as a caution or a reminder. Perhaps due to the randomly placed speedbumps, the older cars, or the sense that time has yet to pass the people by, there isn’t a huge rush on the road. Though traffic is a bit chaotic, it is quite polite. People are surprised to look over into our cars and see white faces and it often generates a smile that has to fight against the big chaw of qat in the left cheek. I’ve enjoyed chatting with most of our drivers. This is definitely one of those deployments where interaction with the local population is minimal, so I’ve made the most out of the long rides to and from work when I’ve had the energy. I found out later, after I left that one of the drivers was missing me. That Faris was a riot and I enjoyed laughing with him.

"Home" - early March

I’ve referenced home a few times. It is quite the palace-a 7 bedroom mansion with 6.5 baths, a small ballroom on the second floor, a rooftop patio, a gazebo in the yard, and 2.5 story walls. All the floors are marble which is great for rolling cannonballs. The ceilings are all high, and the rooms are big. Whoever the architect is was pretty lacking in concepts of design as it just seems like a bunch of rooms glued together without any flow. Very odd place, but perfect for Real World Sana’a. The only real beef I have with the place is the room we are supposed to fall-back to if something happens and we are threatened. It is in the basement, with a great, heavy door, but the bars over the windows would hardly keep out gunfire or an explosive. I’m not sure why they wouldn’t use a sealed room?

Food! - early March

Before I came, everyone raved about the food in Yemen. Well, I have found some delicious bread, and love the chicken aqda (if I remember the name of the dish correctly). However, I always miss green veggies when I’m travelling and have found a bit of a shortage of them here. I wish I were into seafood cause there is some incredible looking grilled fish here. Honestly though, I’m not in the best position to comment on the diverse offerings of Yemeni cuisine. Because of work, and our living arrangements, I have found the whole food situation to be a bit depressing at times. On the plus side, I’ve gotten to enjoy quite a bit of peanut butter and jelly and ramen, on the minus, many days have gone by where that was all. Our house sometimes feels a bit like a bad fraternity with calories being really the only goal. I’m glad we’ve made a few exceptions and gotten out some. We did make it to the most popular restaurant for Yemenis as well as the best restaurant for traditional dishes which happens to be the landmark we use to get home since it seems everyone knows where Al Fakher is located (and it is fun to say). John and Shadrach became real fans of Hot and Crispy which is a Yemeni version of fast food. It even had a playground with a ballpit that John jumped into. I didn’t get to check out the new fried chicken place that is apparently owned by Saudis, but it is hard to resist a fast food place with trampolines outside! Ok, one more funny fast food story, there is a Pizza Hut and KFC here; however, the word on the street is their hygiene practices are lacking. So much so that Pepsico tried to close the franchises and quit receiving their checks. The owners happily mail them in each month and get them back in the mail and continue to serve perhaps substandard chicken and pizzas underneath the famous logos.

A panacea - 2/26

I get teased sometimes for not being over-the-top. I think a lot of life is really good, but it takes something pretty phenomenal to be great. Wow, I sure found it today in the old city. I’m not really sure what the tipping point was, perhaps if the components had been divorced from one another, they would have all just been really good? The welcome of the people, combined with the architecture of the old city (even a mosque that was started by Mohammed himself), and the unique markets it hid within did not combine with the children. I’d read in a guidebook that the kids like to see their photos and like in many places, are excited to have them taken. What an incredible cure I discovered. I would pit the worst case of depression against the excitement, laughter, amazement, and joy that the children experienced when you turned the camera around and shared the picture back with them. I had a good day, and I didn’t want to stop. My team kept calling for me to catch up! The kid’s enthusiasm was contagious and it was truly a great experience. I know depression is about more than a mood, but I would bet these kids could realign someone’s chemical make-up with just a few minutes and a digital camera! I hope to be able to bring such joy to people again before I die. It seemed like a once in a lifetime experience.

The old city - 2/26

I hopped out of the cab, and went through Bab-al Yemen, the gate into the old city. Immediately on crossing through I felt like I’d stepped back many decades if not centuries. Like the rest of Sanaa, traditional dress was everywhere. Flowing waves of black cloth, jambiyas jutting out (the traditional dagger worn by the men), and minus a few displays, wares for sale that ranged from dates and raisins to bolts of cloth. Not my typical experience at Fort Henry or the Pentagon Mall. To make things more exciting, they weren’t just boxes of Sun-made raisins, but they were in barrels - full of varying qualities in ways that people treat their wines. The dates were in large blocks, with the gentlemen offering a taste. Many approached our group exclaiming welcome to Yemen as they passed by. Some stopped to ask where we were from, sharing a brief story with us before they moved on. I’m not sure there can ever be the “right” amount of hospitality, but they seemed to have found that perfect blend, like at the best of Waffle Houses, where you feel appreciated and cared for, but not overwhelmed, and these weren’t business people, but citizens passing by in the streets. It was great! Accompanying the donkey market, the cobblers, and even the camels turning the mill to grind sesame seeds into oil is perhaps the most amazing architecture I’ve seen in my life. The towers of the old city range greatly in age, appearance, and design, but the brick patterns, and the white detail work combined with many of the stained glass windows was breath-taking. I can only compare it to the most impressive cathedrals I’ve seen. I thought long and hard, perhaps some of the ancient pagodas in Japan could rival them, but nothing else I’ve seen in person, or on TV/in books comes close.

Back in Time: 2/17 Arrival

Well, Yemen got off to a good start. It is much cooler than Dubai, which is a great plus. The heat in the airport in Dubai that you could sense walking close to the external walls, or on the walkways to the plane is always overbearing. I don’t think being able to see the world’s tallest building, to live on an island shaped like a palm tree, or to ski indoors in the desert makes up for this, then again, I know many people who disagree and love to vacation in Dubai. Even the fruit plate that arrived at our hotel rooms around 11:30 when we were trying to sleep before our early morning flight didn’t seem to set us over the top. Yemen’s altitude kept us cool, but perhaps also exacerbated the jet lag? Somewhere between 6-8 time zones I get hit pretty hard. Supposedly altitude makes it worse? Sana’a is at 7,500 feet, nothing for folks in Colorado, but a decent height for east coasters…