Sierra Leone, remembering

Facebook reminded me. This month 8 years ago, I was leaving my 4-month stint in Sierra Leone, heading back to southern California. Honestly, it feels like it was WAY longer ago. That time was the end of my sojourn in Africa, but it felt like the start of many things. In Sierra Leone, I got to read and discuss challenging books on Christianity and poverty with awesome people; a year later I joined the MA program at Eastern University outside of Philly, where I got to - again - read, discuss books, and share life experiences with fascinating people; and now, I am two years into my term with MCC in Haiti, another opportunity that has allowed me to cross paths with thoughtful, service-oriented folks who come from all walks of life. I don't read as much while here, but life has provided great people with whom to process life and faith (Pub Church). So today I think of Sierra Leone, and my fellow sojourners there (some of whom are pictured below.)

These are the only pictures I could scrounge up from my laptop in Haiti, and my final blog entry from Freetown, dated June 12, 2008:

"It’s noisy outside"

It's noisy on the streets outside. But, then, it's always noisy on the streets of Freetown. Except for the cool, dark nights passing by the lonely cemetery in Murray Town. Or when you climb the windy hills and sit among the gray and green cotton trees in Wilberforce and Hill Cott. Old, clapboard houses and long stone walls splashed with bright, advertising colors.

But the noises aren't all bad. Mangoes for sale. Sheeptoe, guinea, red cherry. Oh my mouth is watering; I will miss that sweet, juicy taste available morning, noon and night. Cold water, peanut cakes, pineapple, biscuits. All fresh produce! Everything you need so easy to pick up on the side of the road, just picked from fields in the provinces.

The sound of hard-working individuals. Men balancing twenty foot boards on their heads, weaving in and out of taxi and pedestrian traffic, women toting baskets of coal, two, three, four... no, seven baskets high! So graceful as they take care not to fall through the cracks in the cement slab sidewalk, into the running sewage below.

The splatter of rain. It rained today. The sound muffles the blare of honking horns and vendors announcing their goods. Soft blankets of water left us scurrying for shelter: a wooden bench offered by a crew of firemen seeming anxious for distraction. They ushered us to the junction, securing a taxi with a "fine price" for our desired destination. So willing to help; always a kind smile on the streets here, in response to our attempted Krio greetings.

A walk through Kroo Bay leaves a trail of squealing kids, all crying "Aporto! Aporto!" the Temini word for white person. If not "Aporto!" then "white man! white man!" Won't be hearing that sound again for awhile...

I love this city. I love its character. It is a part of me now, and I will never forget this town, nor this beautiful continent.

Our last weeks were awesome. For our final week of tutoring we gathered all the kids in the staff house on Dillet Street and showed them 6 episodes of the BBC series "Planet Earth." The films are stunning and it was so fun to see the kids' eyes widen in amazement at the totally unbelievable animals and insects and landscapes. They often shouted "Eh!" in unison as they saw clips of how big and diverse and stunning this world is. It was so cool.

And then, last week, the Servant Team took our debriefing retreat "upcountry." We went to a National Park called Outamba-Kilimi, past Kamakwie village on the Guinea border. It took about 10 hours and 3 modes of transport to get us there. We were IN THE JUNGLE. With white monkeys on our campsite, hippopotami, big crazy bugs straight from outer-space, and yes, MAMBA snakes (we just saw one). But it was awesome. We got the real upcountry experience, had good time to reflect on our four months here, and came home with literally hundreds of bites on our legs. ;)

And last night, we said good-bye at Lighthouse. The kids gathered round and took pictures with us, prayed for us, and said "thank you" in various ways. It's so difficult saying good-bye. I didn't really know what to say, because I don't really know if I believe that I won't be seeing them again.

Now, I'm about to fly off! I must go, but I am so glad that my leaving won't mean I am cut off from Freetown. I have friends here now, and there's no way I can forget this place, because it has blessed me and, I hope, changed me!