Timing is Everything

I am quickly adapting the the slow pace of life here. In Africa you never arrive late, you arrive later. A local guy explained this phenomenon better than I could: “In the UK you are on GMT, here you are on BMT (Black Man Time).”

So the training continues to go well, if a little long. The language classes are good and hopefully useful, though there are not many of them. It gets insanely hot at lunch time and I sometimes find it hard to concentrate on anything other than drinking water.

Freetown is going to be a little hard to leave behind when I go to Makeni. I have made some good friends here already; with other volunteers, some expats and most importantly, local people. The neighbours around the house I am living in are great, I spend ten minutes greeting them everytime I leave or enter the house, and the kids are inquisitive and affectionate. There is a small lad named Ibrahim (4 years old at a guess) who sprints towards me on sight so I can pick him up and carry him. Most of them are very poor and living in makeshift shacks. The good news is I can stay in this house everytime I come to the Capitol which will be often.

One of the lads had his 19th birthday on Saturday night, and they invited Laura and I to a “lollipop party.” Neither of us had an idea of what this entailed, but we were told to buy lots of lollipops and be ready for them to pick us up at about 10pm. Everytime we asked someone what it was all about they just laughed and thought it was hilarious that we didn't know. When the time came we were sitting in the house and we heard the sounds of whistles in the distance looming closer. We went outside to find about twenty young men all blowing on lollipop whistles. They took our hands (people here love physical contact, and its common for two guys to walk around holding hands) and we departed into the night. For the next hour we joined them in walking around the slum areas, blowing our whistles and shouting “LOLLIPOP!” as loud as we could. People would come rushing out of their shacks and we would give them a lollipop each. It was like Halloween in reverse; walking around town giving out sweets. I really enjoyed it, if only for the chance to walk around an area I would never have went near at night, safe in the knowledge that I was the token whiteboy in a Salonean posse.

Life without electricity is proving ok, I struggle more without the running water. It gets a real chore carrying large buckets about and it makes me appreciate how much water we actually use at home. It pays to conserve here, a “bucket shower” can be reused to flush a toilet for example.

I messed up my foot a little bit walking home at night; the combination of no street lights and terrible roads led me my taking a small chunk out of my big toe. I have learned the hard way to take my time!

Which brings us back to time. In some ways I am very settled and I feel like I have been here for ages. I haven't even seen Makeni yet, but I have met a few people who are going home soon and they all pass on the same message; this year is going to fly by!

I have arrived!

Some people say that its not where you are going that counts, but how you get there. If the journey from Newcastle to Freetown is indicative of my time here, its going to be an interesting year. After a standard flight to Heathrow, the African experience began on the flight from there to Sierra Leone. The flight was full of Africans jostling for space for vast amounts of hand luggage, and the flight eventually left an hour late with me in whatever seat I could find (no hope of sitting in my booked seat!).

Then came the pandemonium of Lungi Airport. The six VSO volunteers (two dropped out at the last minute) were met by two very friendly police officers who seemed keen to rush us through customs. Our passports went missing so I went to see what was happening and was taken to a stern looking guy in full African regalia, who I can only presume was a tribal chief. He asked me in a booming voice, “What is your mission?” I answered this and several similar questions with a mixture of VSO propaganda and whatever I could think to add. It seemed to work; he smiled briefly and returned our passports.

We were then supposed to get a ferry or hovercraft across to Freetown, but both were not running. That meant a choice of staying overnight in the airport or getting a helicopter to the city – an easy choice! The ride was great, although the view was not as there are very few lights in the city so it was hard to see what was below. We were then picked up in 4x4s and taken to our temporary accommodation in Freetown.

I find myself living in the house of a volunteer who has already been here for a year, which has been a great help. Laura speaks fluent Krio and has shown us the ropes of getting around the city. Ailsing is another newbie who will be living with Laura permanently, so I am the de facto man of the house. The place itself is great, despite the lack of electricity and running water. My room is clean, welcoming and had a king size bed – much better than expected!

So we have pretty much had two days off, so we have explored the city a little, and checked out the beaches, which are stunning. On Saturday night, we went out for a meal and a few beers, which ended in us leaving Paddy's nightclub at 4.30am after some highly energetic dancing. On Sunday we managed to find a little shack with two TVs packed full of rowdy young men watching Manchester United battle out a 1-1 draw with Chelsea. A quality match day experience. I must admit, I am pleasantly surprised by Freetown. Although it is very hot, some of the roads are poor and it is pretty dirty, the people are so friendly and there is a great vibe. I feel really safe and I have already made some good friends with local people and other volunteers.

So all is well, I think I will be happy here during my training, although I will have to wait ten days before I see my new home in Makeni.

I am having trouble uploading photos so I'll try again next time!