Transitions and Dichotomies

On Friday afternoon we moved into our new, lovely apartment in Hill Station. It's directly below the Chinese Embassy and on the same route as many of the embassies (Ghana, Libya, Iran, and Egypt are all within walking distance). The first night was quite enjoyable to sleep with the a/c running long enough to chill our rooms, followed by a light rainstorm.
Saturday morning I headed off for my first day of work, having heard from Alfred on Friday that there was a meeting he wanted me to attend with him. The details were less than specific, so I hopped on an okada (motorbike taxi) without a clear idea of what to expect. After winding our way through the hills and traffic of Freetown, my driver dropped me at the office and Alfred and I set off for a "walking tour" of downtown Freetown, which more realistically involved stopping to see some people and running a few errands while walking to somewhere easier to get a taxi. From there we chartered a taxi to Wellington, just east of the city, home of the brewery for Star Beer (Sierra Leone's finest, not available at any of the "nice" restaurants).
While we drove, Alfred explained the purpose of the meeting-- CESMYCO has been working with soweis, the initiators for the bondo society, to abandon the practice of FGM. One of the steps in this process involves support for alternative employment. CESMYCO has provided seeds to the collectives of women to allow them to grow crops and create a seed bank, which will provide seeds for further groups of women. We met the chief initiator in Wellington, along with Frank, one of the men who helps to farm the land, and a representative from the Ministry of Education. We then hopped in another taxi to take us about a half hour away to Waterloo, after which the roads were "unautoable." After some negotiation, we arranged for several okadas which would take us to the village where the farm land was and everyone in town was highly entertained by the site of a white girl on the back of a bike. The road was truly undrivable for a car, as my driver steered us around potholes, makeshift dams (for the rains), puddles, and finally onto a small overgrown footpath. Eventually we emerged in a tiny cluster of homes, and Frank led us through the bush to the farm land. The agriculturalist conducted a thorough investigation of the soil, which to the best of my knowledge consisted of feeling the sand and then poking it with a machete a few times. Then again, I'm not a highly trained minister of agriculture. We discussed the program with the farmer and the initiator, who told us they have about 15 acres and have been very successful at growing eggplants and squash. Once it was confirmed that the soil was good, Alfred explained that we will be providing them with seed packets to grow rice, which can be harvested every 3 months. Given that rice is the staple food group of the country, and largely imported, the women should be able to feed their families and sell the remainder.
Sunday was a complete 180 from my day bouncing on okadas and standing in the middle of the bush with initiators. We woke up leisurely, enjoyed the view from our apartment, and dressed for the beaches, then went for a nice breakfast at Bliss, one of the local ex-pat favorites. They're known for the spectacular crepes, juices, omelets, and "the best coffee in Freetown." It certainly did not disappoint and was a pretty good value, though extremely high for Salone. After eating and applying sunscreen in the bathroom, we chartered a taxi and set off to Lakka to meet two Americans who Ashley had met at the beach last weekend. Sadly, upon our arrival, the sky had turned a menacing dark grey and we were only able to enjoy a short period of sun & swimming before the storm started and stuck around. The day was, in a nutshell, the complete opposite of my prior day, but a much needed mini-break.
Since Monday, I've been getting situated at the CESMYCO offices in Freetown and adjusting to our daily commute. We walk down to the Wilberforce roundabout, where we get into the queue (okay, mob) for the shared taxis to town. The process involves having your elbows out and being the first to touch the door handle of approaching taxis, while running alongside (surrounded by the rest of the mob), shouting "to town? to town?" If the driver gives any indication, usually a light nod, the doors are flung open and we begin to cram ourselves into the vehicle. On average, the taxi can hold 2-3 people more than there are seats, but there are at least 2-3 times that trying to get in any given car. We're starting to get much better at the process and the ride costs a spendy $0.25/person. On mornings like today, when Ashley left earlier and I felt lazy, an okada is a big expense at around $1. In the evenings, we're starting to explore the stalls of street food-- lots of meat on a stick and fantastic bread-- and enjoy our full satellite tv, which includes about 5 channels in English and 300 from Lebanon, as well as a few outings to things like reggae night down at the beach and free movies at one of the ex-pat favored restaurants. Still in the process of settling into what I'll be doing at work-- right now, researching grants for CESMYCO, but I'm trying to design a research plan to examine the by-laws in two other chiefdoms in Sierra Leone to complete the proposal we started with the clinic.