Using the example of last week’s miscommunication and several other incidents in the office, I held an in-office training today on effective communication skills. Using some of the same exercises I used in Thailand, we worked on active listening skills. Then I introduced the Two-Column tool and we worked on bridging the gap between the two columns, i.e. “what we think and feel” vs. “what we say.” The YAI staff is small, only 5 people, and the intimate setting and trust between the participants made the training really dynamic, fun, and interesting.
I had been planning on holding weekly trainings for the YAI staff for some time now, but several factors intervened to delay the first training to today. Between my hectic meeting schedule and the holiday in the middle of last week, I never had a sufficient chunk of time to run a real training session. In addition, all of the YAI staff are also full-time university students—despite being in their late twenties. This is due to the suspension of education during the civil war, which causes the majority of Liberians to be far behind in their studies. Juggling a full course load plus their work responsibilities means that the YAI staff members also have limited time to allocate to trainings. However, I think the success of today’s training has made us all more devoted to really making time for these sessions every week.
The 3-hour training this afternoon was also a good warm up for me since next week YAI is sponsoring a 2-day workshop that I am facilitating for representatives from several youth groups in Monrovia.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Meeting the 2nd Lady of Liberia
I woke up today feeling refreshed after my unexpected day off and trip to the beach. After a busy morning in the office, I walked across town to the headquarters of the Group of 77, a government-sponsored program for handicapped Liberians. The head of the Group of 77 with whom I met is actually the Second Lady of Liberia, i.e. the Vice President’s wife, i.e. the Lynne Cheney of Liberia. While it was an honor to meet her, I realized about 20 minutes into the meeting that there was no possibility for developing a partnership between our organizations for a very simple reason: the “Enabled” program that YAI is developing specifically targets people who were handicapped because of the war, while the Group of 77 only works with people who are handicapped due to disease (polio etc) or accident. Thankfully, the Second Lady completely understood that we were restricted by the project proposal and the desire of our funders, and graciously passed on the information about other government-sponsored programs for people handicapped because of the conflict. I was a little embarrassed by this obvious miscommunication, but comforted to know that there were people out there who actually wanted to help Liberians in need, even if it wouldn’t benefit them or their organization.
Friday, May 09, 2008
YAI's projects
Today was reserved for visits to YAI’s main project sites. The first project was a community empowerment project done in partnership with the US Agency for International Development (USAID). The project was simple and consisted of two parts. The first was field research on the main social issues in some of the most conflict affected and at-risk urban communities. The second part was the development of special slogans targeting those issues that were then introduced to the people through community meetings and further disseminated on billboards, bumper stickers, radio programs, and tee-shirts.
After driving all around Greater Monrovia looking at the various billboards, we made our way to the J.C.N. Howard Memorial Playground. This playground, as with all others in Liberia, was severely dilapidated and so badly damaged during the civil war that it was nearly dangerous for children to play there. YAI’s founder and my friend, Kimmie Weeks, had particular attachment to this playground because it is where he played as a child growing up in Monrovia. As one of the organization’s first projects in Liberia, YAI renovated the playground and continues to maintain it. Now, hundreds of neighborhood children have a place to play and just be kids. It was so refreshing to see all of these children playing with real toys and on proper equipment as opposed to literally amusing themselves on the street or in ramshackle alleyways. While many could criticize this type of project, Liberia was so destroyed by the civil war that these basic projects are truly needed.
The last project I visited today was the Elwood Orphanage. Before YAI began supporting the orphanage, a courageous woman was simply taking children orphaned by the conflict into her home. As the numbers of children increased, she eventually had to move to a neighboring building, but it had no roof and no real facilities for the children. Now YAI supports Elwood and the building not only has a roof, but also windows, doors, a real classroom, and dorms for the boys and girls. There are nearly a hundred children living at the orphanage. They also have their own vegetable garden and little pig and chicken farm, with the goal of eventually becoming self-sustainable in terms of food.
After driving all around Greater Monrovia looking at the various billboards, we made our way to the J.C.N. Howard Memorial Playground. This playground, as with all others in Liberia, was severely dilapidated and so badly damaged during the civil war that it was nearly dangerous for children to play there. YAI’s founder and my friend, Kimmie Weeks, had particular attachment to this playground because it is where he played as a child growing up in Monrovia. As one of the organization’s first projects in Liberia, YAI renovated the playground and continues to maintain it. Now, hundreds of neighborhood children have a place to play and just be kids. It was so refreshing to see all of these children playing with real toys and on proper equipment as opposed to literally amusing themselves on the street or in ramshackle alleyways. While many could criticize this type of project, Liberia was so destroyed by the civil war that these basic projects are truly needed.
The last project I visited today was the Elwood Orphanage. Before YAI began supporting the orphanage, a courageous woman was simply taking children orphaned by the conflict into her home. As the numbers of children increased, she eventually had to move to a neighboring building, but it had no roof and no real facilities for the children. Now YAI supports Elwood and the building not only has a roof, but also windows, doors, a real classroom, and dorms for the boys and girls. There are nearly a hundred children living at the orphanage. They also have their own vegetable garden and little pig and chicken farm, with the goal of eventually becoming self-sustainable in terms of food.
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
Tacos 'n' Trivia
The past week has been a flurry of activity at work. I’m shaking things up a bit in the office with good results and getting leads on possible NGO partnerships. Yesterday I had a very interesting and productive meeting with the Country Representative of UNICEF. UNICEF sees YAI as a potential partner to help support the development of youth groups, which is exciting for YAI because that is not only the kind of program we’d really like to develop but also because it gives us an established and well-funded partner. In addition, the Country Representative introduced me to several other relevant people around the UNICEF offices and she promised to include YAI in any future NGO consultations and meetings. Unfortunately, I came down from my “productive morning” high when someone informed me that UNICEF has the unfortunate reputation in Liberia of being very slow and unreliable. Hopefully I’ll be able to instill in the YAI staff the need for regular follow-up so we can develop this relationship into a true partnership.
My energy and progress at work has come at a bit of a cost though: I really don’t have any friends besides my colleagues and roommates. This week though, I met someone through work who invited me to a “Tacos and Trivia evening. While usually exhausted from my 10-12 hour workdays in my non-air-conditioned office, I made the effort to go out tonight and mingle a bit with some fellow expatriates. Also, I really can’t resist the combination of two of my favorite things in the whole world: Mexican food and Trivial Pursuit.
My energy and progress at work has come at a bit of a cost though: I really don’t have any friends besides my colleagues and roommates. This week though, I met someone through work who invited me to a “Tacos and Trivia evening. While usually exhausted from my 10-12 hour workdays in my non-air-conditioned office, I made the effort to go out tonight and mingle a bit with some fellow expatriates. Also, I really can’t resist the combination of two of my favorite things in the whole world: Mexican food and Trivial Pursuit.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
T.I.A.
Unfortunately Monrovia bears the scars of the 12-year Liberian civil war. Scratch that actually, those scars are still open wounds: frequent power cuts, no running water, gutters clogged with casually discarded trash, roads covered in jagged potholes, sewer manholes without covers, small shacks erected between crumbling buildings, rusted barbed wire police roadblocks etc. Monrovia makes Vukovar look like Singapore.
But “T.I.A.” (This Is Africa) and, as usual, the population here survives and smiles, from the young war amputees on crutches agilely navigating the rutted sidewalks, to the mamas selling mangoes and grilled cassava on the corner, to the children playing in the rubble of bombed out buildings, to the UNMIL peacekeeping soldiers in their erratic flurries of blue helmet activity. And the street scene has its own unique soundtrack: the blasting gospel music from stores and the hip hop (usually Akon) being played by the roaming wheelbarrow street vendors mingles with the car horns of the white NGO trucks and the Premier League football matches being broadcast live on the radio. Ah, to be back in Africa…
In my first few days here, I've already been very busy: I went to several sports games and met the Liberian National Basketball coach and half the team. I met one of Charles Taylor's former bodyguards. I remembered the hard way that it’s best to take malaria prophylaxis with food because otherwise it causes excruciating heartburn. I've nearly perfected my bucket bath technique (remember, no running water!) and I learned to chug a half-liter of cold water out of a plastic bag (cheaper and more common than bottled water).
But “T.I.A.” (This Is Africa) and, as usual, the population here survives and smiles, from the young war amputees on crutches agilely navigating the rutted sidewalks, to the mamas selling mangoes and grilled cassava on the corner, to the children playing in the rubble of bombed out buildings, to the UNMIL peacekeeping soldiers in their erratic flurries of blue helmet activity. And the street scene has its own unique soundtrack: the blasting gospel music from stores and the hip hop (usually Akon) being played by the roaming wheelbarrow street vendors mingles with the car horns of the white NGO trucks and the Premier League football matches being broadcast live on the radio. Ah, to be back in Africa…
In my first few days here, I've already been very busy: I went to several sports games and met the Liberian National Basketball coach and half the team. I met one of Charles Taylor's former bodyguards. I remembered the hard way that it’s best to take malaria prophylaxis with food because otherwise it causes excruciating heartburn. I've nearly perfected my bucket bath technique (remember, no running water!) and I learned to chug a half-liter of cold water out of a plastic bag (cheaper and more common than bottled water).
Barbed wire and Bagged Water
Three weeks ago I packed up my apartment in BKK and left Thailand as discreetly as possible—so as to avoid getting soaked with water and chalk powder by the revelers celebrating Songkran, the wet & wild Thai New Year that coincided with my departure date.
There aren't as many direct flights between BKK and Monrovia as you would imagine, so my itinerary was somewhat circuitous: I took a long long long flight from Thailand via Qatar to Morocco (where I stopped for a few days and was joined by my father), then on to Senegal (where I crashed for a long weekend at the puppy-infested Zalman Dakar Expat mansion), and finally on to Liberia. Well that last transition wasn't so seamless: I was meant to transit through Abidjan but my onward flight was canceled which stranded me in Côte d'Ivoire. Personally I felt that the unexpected stopover in a crime-ridden post-war city was the perfect introduction to my third and final placement in Liberia.
After a few days I did get a flight out and, despite the Liberian Immigration Dept's best efforts to keep me out (yay for showing up without a visa and nearly getting arrested & deported!), I finally managed to get to Liberia. I have now I've been here nearly two weeks and am gradually settling in....
Unfortunately Monrovia bears the scars of the 12-year Liberian civil war. Scratch that actually, those scars are still open wounds: frequent power cuts, no running water, gutters clogged with casually discarded trash, roads covered in jagged potholes, sewer manholes without covers, small shacks erected between crumbling buildings, rusted barbed wire police roadblocks etc. Monrovia makes Vukovar look like Singapore.
But T.I.A. and, as usual, the population here survives and smiles, from the young war amputees on crutches agilely navigating the rutted sidewalks, to the mamas selling mangoes and grilled cassava on the corner, to the children playing in the rubble of bombed out buildings, to the UNMIL peacekeeping soldiers in their erratic flurries of blue helmet activity. And the street scene has its own unique soundtrack: the blasting gospel music from stores and the hip hop (usually Akon) being played by the roaming wheelbarrow street vendors mingles with the car horns of the white NGO trucks and the Premier League football matches being broadcast live on the radio. This cacophony gushes in through my office, which overlooks one of the busiest streets in downtown Monrovia. Ah, to be back in Africa…
In my first couple of weeks here, I've already been very busy: I went clubbing with the Liberian National Basketball coach and half the team. I met one of Charles Taylor's former bodyguards. I went to a UN party and watched with amusement as they all rushed home for their 2am curfew. I went to the beach and watched as several expat surfers strutted around and then wiped out in the very rough surf. I learned to chug a half-liter of cold water out of a plastic bag (cheaper and more common than bottled water) and I've nearly perfected my bucket bath technique. I watched Shrek with the kids in my apartment building and thoroughly enjoyed the inexplicably creative subtitles:
Shrek: No Donkey, you can't stay here, it's my swamp.
(subtitle reads: Horse's Ass, go away, this here my amphibious house)
Donkey: But Shrek, it's not fair
(subtitle reads: History Lake, you are beautiful)
Life in the office is not quite as entertaining, but it's interesting and extremely busy. I am working with Youth Action International (YAI), an NGO that works to support and empower conflict-affected youth in Africa. My good friend from college and internationally recognized child rights activist, Kimmie Weeks, founded YAI a few years ago and has tried to get me to come work with him for years. Thanks to the Insight Fellowship, I finally have that opportunity. My project is to develop new partnerships and programs for YAI, particularly focusing on raising youth awareness of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC). I'm also developing a series of workshops for youth groups on peace-building and conflict transformation. Plus I'm going to review and develop all current programs, streamline office efficiency, and conduct trainings for the local staff. So really not all that much to do for the next couple of months…
There aren't as many direct flights between BKK and Monrovia as you would imagine, so my itinerary was somewhat circuitous: I took a long long long flight from Thailand via Qatar to Morocco (where I stopped for a few days and was joined by my father), then on to Senegal (where I crashed for a long weekend at the puppy-infested Zalman Dakar Expat mansion), and finally on to Liberia. Well that last transition wasn't so seamless: I was meant to transit through Abidjan but my onward flight was canceled which stranded me in Côte d'Ivoire. Personally I felt that the unexpected stopover in a crime-ridden post-war city was the perfect introduction to my third and final placement in Liberia.
After a few days I did get a flight out and, despite the Liberian Immigration Dept's best efforts to keep me out (yay for showing up without a visa and nearly getting arrested & deported!), I finally managed to get to Liberia. I have now I've been here nearly two weeks and am gradually settling in....
Unfortunately Monrovia bears the scars of the 12-year Liberian civil war. Scratch that actually, those scars are still open wounds: frequent power cuts, no running water, gutters clogged with casually discarded trash, roads covered in jagged potholes, sewer manholes without covers, small shacks erected between crumbling buildings, rusted barbed wire police roadblocks etc. Monrovia makes Vukovar look like Singapore.
But T.I.A. and, as usual, the population here survives and smiles, from the young war amputees on crutches agilely navigating the rutted sidewalks, to the mamas selling mangoes and grilled cassava on the corner, to the children playing in the rubble of bombed out buildings, to the UNMIL peacekeeping soldiers in their erratic flurries of blue helmet activity. And the street scene has its own unique soundtrack: the blasting gospel music from stores and the hip hop (usually Akon) being played by the roaming wheelbarrow street vendors mingles with the car horns of the white NGO trucks and the Premier League football matches being broadcast live on the radio. This cacophony gushes in through my office, which overlooks one of the busiest streets in downtown Monrovia. Ah, to be back in Africa…
In my first couple of weeks here, I've already been very busy: I went clubbing with the Liberian National Basketball coach and half the team. I met one of Charles Taylor's former bodyguards. I went to a UN party and watched with amusement as they all rushed home for their 2am curfew. I went to the beach and watched as several expat surfers strutted around and then wiped out in the very rough surf. I learned to chug a half-liter of cold water out of a plastic bag (cheaper and more common than bottled water) and I've nearly perfected my bucket bath technique. I watched Shrek with the kids in my apartment building and thoroughly enjoyed the inexplicably creative subtitles:
Shrek: No Donkey, you can't stay here, it's my swamp.
(subtitle reads: Horse's Ass, go away, this here my amphibious house)
Donkey: But Shrek, it's not fair
(subtitle reads: History Lake, you are beautiful)
Life in the office is not quite as entertaining, but it's interesting and extremely busy. I am working with Youth Action International (YAI), an NGO that works to support and empower conflict-affected youth in Africa. My good friend from college and internationally recognized child rights activist, Kimmie Weeks, founded YAI a few years ago and has tried to get me to come work with him for years. Thanks to the Insight Fellowship, I finally have that opportunity. My project is to develop new partnerships and programs for YAI, particularly focusing on raising youth awareness of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC). I'm also developing a series of workshops for youth groups on peace-building and conflict transformation. Plus I'm going to review and develop all current programs, streamline office efficiency, and conduct trainings for the local staff. So really not all that much to do for the next couple of months…
Monday, April 28, 2008
Working at YAI
Today was my first real day in the office. Last week, I was given the grand tour and was introduced to my new colleagues, but today was the first real day of work. I am working with Youth Action International (YAI), an NGO that works to support and empower conflict-affected women, children, and youth in postwar African countries. My good friend from college and internationally recognized child rights activist, Kimmie Weeks, founded YAI a few years ago and has tried to get me to come work with him for years. Thanks to the Fellowship, I finally have that opportunity.
More than simply working here, I am actually in charge. Kimmie is finishing up his Masters degree in the States and he has made me YAI’s Acting Director for the duration of my placement here. While I have experience running student organizations in college, I have never been in charge of an actual non-profit organization. I am excited and terrified at the same time; excited by the opportunity to really challenge myself and develop my leadership and management skills and terrified that I will somehow mess it all up. In some dark moments of paranoia, I have visions of myself really blundering in my every undertaking and basically capsizing the efforts of this NGO. Those visions usually pass quickly though, as I realize that while I’m certainly not the most experienced person for this job, thanks to the skills and personal development emphasized by the Fellowship, I am actually pretty well equipped to manage this responsibility.
The responsibility is the following: my project is to develop new partnerships and programs for YAI, which means networking and building relationships with many of the other NGOs in Monrovia. I'm particularly focusing on raising youth awareness of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) while also developing a series of workshops for youth groups on peace-building and conflict transformation. Plus I'm going to review and develop all current programs, streamline office efficiency, and conduct trainings for the local staff. So really not all that much to do for the next couple of months…
Friday, April 25, 2008
The Hardship Placement
Two days ago, I finally got a flight out of Côte d’Ivoire and, despite the Liberian Immigration Dept's best efforts to keep me out (yay for showing up without a visa and nearly getting arrested & deported!) I managed to get into Liberia. I have now been here a few days and am gradually settling in…
I live about 2 buildings down from the office so my commute to work will take about 54 seconds—a refreshing change from my long commute in Thailand. My apartment building feels quite secure: not only do we have a 24h security guard, but we're also on one of the few streets that has functioning street lights and we're right across the street from the Ministry of Defense which has a division of the Nigerian Battalion (NIBATT) of the United Nations Mission in Liberia (UNMIL) constantly guarding the building and patrolling the street.
However this placement in Liberia definitely wins the “hardship” award for the Fellowship year in terms of my living situation. Firstly, there are a lot of problems with the power supply to the apartment. Due to the destruction of infrastructure during the years of civil war, there is no way to provide a blanket electricity supply for the whole city. Some local businesses and landlords purchase large commercial generators and charge people in the neighborhood to hook up to it. Others rely on gasoline-fueled personal generators. However the rapidly rising cost of fuel is forcing people to cut back on their generator usage. We have a generator, but due to the expense, we're trying to only use it when the power is really cut, not when it just pops off for 15min.
In addition, there is no running water in the apartment (or the office for that matter). Again due to infrastructure destruction during the war, there are few functional sewage and sanitation facilities. UNMIL has built a couple, but most buildings don’t even have any pipes because the lead and copper were stolen by looters during the war. In order to have water for bathing, cooking etc, our houseboy Bishop takes care of keeping several large water containers filled.
I live with between 5 and 9 Liberians, depending on the day of the week. My full-time roommates include my colleague Isaac and his wife Kula. They have a 5 yr old daughter called Fate who usually stays with her grandparents because Isaac's house burned down last year and they are starting from scratch. My other roommate is Charlotte. She is getting a degree in sociology and has a cute 7-year-old son, Gus, who lives with us. The other roommates are a motley crew of friends, colleagues and extended family members. The apartment is usually bustling, busy with lots of people hanging out, talking and eating in the big living room. When the power is on, they watch bootleg Chinese DVDs of mediocre American movies or listen to live broadcasts of Premier League football matches on the radio. When the power goes off and the apartment gets unbearably hot and stuffy since the fans are off, everyone sits outside, either on our wide balcony or downstairs on the street, chatting with neighbors, friends, and passersby. I usually join them in the evenings, though I struggle to participate in the conversations since the English spoken in Liberia is about as comprehensible as Icelandic to me. No one really knows what to make of this random white woman who is all of a sudden living with them. However, as in every other African country I’ve been to, everyone is incredibly warm and friendly-- and they usually take pity on my confusion and translate their discussions and patiently try to teach me how to understand Liberian English.
I live about 2 buildings down from the office so my commute to work will take about 54 seconds—a refreshing change from my long commute in Thailand. My apartment building feels quite secure: not only do we have a 24h security guard, but we're also on one of the few streets that has functioning street lights and we're right across the street from the Ministry of Defense which has a division of the Nigerian Battalion (NIBATT) of the United Nations Mission in Liberia (UNMIL) constantly guarding the building and patrolling the street.
However this placement in Liberia definitely wins the “hardship” award for the Fellowship year in terms of my living situation. Firstly, there are a lot of problems with the power supply to the apartment. Due to the destruction of infrastructure during the years of civil war, there is no way to provide a blanket electricity supply for the whole city. Some local businesses and landlords purchase large commercial generators and charge people in the neighborhood to hook up to it. Others rely on gasoline-fueled personal generators. However the rapidly rising cost of fuel is forcing people to cut back on their generator usage. We have a generator, but due to the expense, we're trying to only use it when the power is really cut, not when it just pops off for 15min.
In addition, there is no running water in the apartment (or the office for that matter). Again due to infrastructure destruction during the war, there are few functional sewage and sanitation facilities. UNMIL has built a couple, but most buildings don’t even have any pipes because the lead and copper were stolen by looters during the war. In order to have water for bathing, cooking etc, our houseboy Bishop takes care of keeping several large water containers filled.
I live with between 5 and 9 Liberians, depending on the day of the week. My full-time roommates include my colleague Isaac and his wife Kula. They have a 5 yr old daughter called Fate who usually stays with her grandparents because Isaac's house burned down last year and they are starting from scratch. My other roommate is Charlotte. She is getting a degree in sociology and has a cute 7-year-old son, Gus, who lives with us. The other roommates are a motley crew of friends, colleagues and extended family members. The apartment is usually bustling, busy with lots of people hanging out, talking and eating in the big living room. When the power is on, they watch bootleg Chinese DVDs of mediocre American movies or listen to live broadcasts of Premier League football matches on the radio. When the power goes off and the apartment gets unbearably hot and stuffy since the fans are off, everyone sits outside, either on our wide balcony or downstairs on the street, chatting with neighbors, friends, and passersby. I usually join them in the evenings, though I struggle to participate in the conversations since the English spoken in Liberia is about as comprehensible as Icelandic to me. No one really knows what to make of this random white woman who is all of a sudden living with them. However, as in every other African country I’ve been to, everyone is incredibly warm and friendly-- and they usually take pity on my confusion and translate their discussions and patiently try to teach me how to understand Liberian English.
Monday, April 21, 2008
From Bangkok to Monrovia... -ish
Last week, I packed up my apartment in Bangkok and left Thailand as discreetly as possible—so as to avoid getting soaked with water and chalk powder by the revelers celebrating Songkran, the wet & wild Thai New Year that coincided with my departure date. There aren't as many direct flights between Bangkok and Monrovia as you would imagine, so my itinerary was somewhat circuitous: I first took a long flight from Thailand to Qatar, and then from Qatar to Morocco. I stopped over in my fellow Fellow’s first placement country for a few days and took in a little sightseeing:
In front of the Hassan II Mosque, the second largest mosque in the world, in Casablanca
I then flew to Senegal and finally on to Liberia. Well that last transition is actually still in progress: I was meant to transit through Côte d’Ivoire but my onward flight was canceled without warning and I’m now kind of stranded in Abidjan. My French fluency and US citizenship got me out of what could have been a really miserable situation and personally I’m enjoying this little unexpected adventure. This stopover in a crime-ridden postwar city is the perfect introduction to my third and final placement in Liberia. Clearly my family is not as thrilled, but the airline is taking care of me and I should be getting on a flight to Liberia within a few days at most... Fingers crossed!
I then flew to Senegal and finally on to Liberia. Well that last transition is actually still in progress: I was meant to transit through Côte d’Ivoire but my onward flight was canceled without warning and I’m now kind of stranded in Abidjan. My French fluency and US citizenship got me out of what could have been a really miserable situation and personally I’m enjoying this little unexpected adventure. This stopover in a crime-ridden postwar city is the perfect introduction to my third and final placement in Liberia. Clearly my family is not as thrilled, but the airline is taking care of me and I should be getting on a flight to Liberia within a few days at most... Fingers crossed!
Monday, April 14, 2008
Day at the Beach
I was surprised when I arrived at the office this morning to find it empty. When I got back home, my roommate/colleague Isaac explained that today was a Liberian national holiday known as Unification Day. Soon afterwards, I got a phone call from friend whose Liberian colleagues also neglected to warn her about the holiday. Unlike me, she has the flexibility and independence of her own car and when she suggested going to the beach for the day, I jumped on the opportunity. We rounded up some other friends and drove out the Thinkers Beach (pronounced “tinkas beesh”) for the day. I’ve heard rumors about how nice Liberian beaches are, but have so far been unimpressed by the ones in the city that are unfortunately used as trash dumps. Thinkers is about 20km down the coast from Monrovia and the stretch of beach is rather pristine. While the surf is rough and actually rather dangerous, the beach itself is lovely. It’s a popular Sunday getaway for both expats and Liberians, though the former are baking in the sun and braving the water for swimming and surfing while the latter tend to sit in the shade and sip cold bottle of the local Club beer (rumored to contain formaldehyde), knowingly shaking their heads at the silly foreigners jumping in the water.
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