Getting to Dakar...

Eventful moments:


When we return to Bonthe, we decide to visit the doctor because our health has not improved. The waiting room is a bench outside an open window that doesn't have glass or shutters, so it cannot be closed. Inside the window is the doctor who will call on each patient in order of who he would like to see first. When he calls on us and invites us to sit down, he shuts the door. He then announces to us that "what we say in here is just between us and it is confidential," which would make sense if there weren't currently four adult faces pressed up against the bars of the "window" listening and watching us intently...it's not every day that white people visit the doctor.  (We did get better within hours of this visit)

Gutting and scraping scales off of fish

On our boat ride back to Mattru Jong we see women preparing thousands of fish to sell when they arrive. People throw plastic bags over the side into the river casually. After two months neither Matt nor I can escape our cultural programming that tells us that littering is evil; we still cringe at the sight of trash in the beautiful river. Children use knives to open and eat mangoes--also a little nerve-wracking for me. We also chat with a religious reggae singer about politics and religion.

When people ask our age, there is much surprise and laughter when they calculate that I'm older than Matt.

When we arrive at the airport in Lungi with our tickets, ready to take off for Dakar, Senegal, we are informed that our flight will not take off, that in fact, Arik Air does not fly on Wednesdays at all!  As you can imagine, we panicked. We have a connecting flight to catch on Thursday and the next Arik flight is on Friday!!!  We are in Lungi, the airport town, several hours away from Freetown, where the nearest internet, ATM, or phone is for us to arrange alternative transportation. After drilling the airport staff about alternative flight options and begging to use their phone to talk to various knowledgeable people, we discover that if we rush back to Freetown and manage to book a new flight, get a visa for entering The Gambia, get a cash advance from the bank to pay for the flight, and get back to Lungi in time for the flight that night, we might be able to make it!

Cows, trucks, and passengers getting off of the ferry in The Gambia

We did make our flight. We did make it to The Gambia at about 11pm at night. We then took a taxi to the ferry terminal. We caught the last ferry going across the river at midnight. Spent a couple hours sleeping in a guesthouse before getting a 'poda poda' bus to the Senegalese border. After all that went smoothly, all we needed to do was relax for the seven hour bus ride through Senegal to the capital city, Dakar. Phewph! I still can't believe it all worked out!!  With a few hours to spare, even. We went back to our favorite market in the city, ate our favorite food, and relaxed as the sun set on the ocean before leisurely catching our flight to Paris, and then back to Seattle!

To Turtle Islands and Back

After Daru, we go back to Kenema to spend two more days playing games with the kids at Patrick’s house, trying to send emails and battle the never present internet connection, and gather our supplies for our trip to the Turtle Islands.

The female hair styles in Sierra Leone include inventive and impressive braid designs, wigs, extensions, you name it! After a conversation with Isata at Patrick’s, it becomes clear that some girls (or maybe most, or all) re-do their hairstyle completely every week.

I burn my leg slightly on the exhaust pipe getting off a Honda bike and the driver offers to rub motor oil on it. I decline and still wonder whether others actually put motor oil on burns here.



Our first stop from Kenema is Mattru Jong, a location we know little about and are planning on just passing through. We are pleasantly surprised by this gem of a town. It is gorgeous with lots of plants and farms.

The market is cute and little, but holds everything we need, and the guesthouse where we stay, which was recommended by a woman with whom we traveled, was the best run guesthouse we’ve stayed at yet! Plus the fresh eggs and fried plantains for breakfast were delicious. (at this point you may be noticing that every entry mentions food heavily and you will have learned something about me).

The man who helps run the place has the deepest voice either Matt or I have ever heard, which almost makes us laugh every time we hear it.

When we go for a walk we are greeted warmly by…almost everyone. Then a large SUV pulls up and a man, who turns out to be the Paramount Chief of the area, drills us with questions and tells us that if we had come to him as soon as we arrived that he would have send a police officer to give us a tour of the town.

In the morning we walk to the docks and see the beautiful river, which is so delightful to see in the heat of the day, it is hard to describe. There are a few brightly colored wooden boats, and after buying our tickets, we place our bags in one of them and get ready for the 3 hour (really 6 hour) trip down the river.


The floor of the boat is covered in enormous bags of merchandise, bound for the weekend market at Yargoi. Lying on top of these bags, filled with sandals and other items, are women and children sleeping. Poking out through brush along the river bend, and tucked in behind the mangrove swamps, are small villages with thatched-roof huts. Boat journeys and journeys in general, are ideal places for conversing (and often arguing) about politics, religion, and cultural differences, or on this trip, educational theory.

We arrive in Bonthe on Sherbro Island, a totally forgotten town with a Whidbey-esque beach and one road running perpendicular to the beach that is the main street. There are lots of big dilapidated colonial buildings as well as buildings in ruins that are being overtaken by foliage. The hospital is by far the newest and largest building which is located at the end of the main street. All the other streets in Bonthe are laid out in a grid, connected by sandy paths where kids and adults walk very slowly towards their destination.

Along the beach, several types of boats rest on the sand when the tide is out, one of which is a large colorfully painted wooden boat--the kind we will take to the Turtle Islands.

At our guesthouse there is a pet monkey tied to a tree which seems incredibly cruel to me. It cuddles with the neighborhood puppies at night. (no joke)

We have a large rainstorm last night...thunder and lightning and loud thumping rain off of the metal roofs. It is the first real rain we have experienced on our trip so far and it has us worried about sleeping under a mosquito net completely exposed to the elements on the Turtle Islands.

For lunch we watch a young man climb up a coconut tree with ease and grace, knock several off, and then proceed to serve them to us. As we eat the delicious coconut we watch the water lap at the shore from our balcony.

The next day we find people willing to take us to the Turtle Islands on their wooden boat, so we make a quick trip to the market and buy food to bring with us--bread and cassava to snack on and potato leaves, spices, onions, and oil to bring for a local fisherman to cook for our dinners. But as it turns out, because there isn't enough fuel on the island for our trip, we need to wait until the boat with fuel comes to Bonthe that evening, so we end up leaving the next day early in the morning.

Turtle Islands:
We take off with our four-man crew and one woman who lives on the island. For the first two hours it is a smooth, sunscreen filled ride. We watch out for the small villages that are nestled in amongst the mangrove swamps on the banks. Then, a dark, ominous cloud catches up with us and we find ourselves battling the larger waves and rain as it pours in from the sides of the boat.

The crew is very flustered and panicked. They are yelling at the driver to steer correctly and we finally make it to shore where they anchor the boat to await the passing of the storm. Now, that may sound very exciting and dangerous, because when watching the crew, it did seem that way. However, the weather nor the waves were bad at all. It actually was the weather you would expect if going out in a boat in Seattle. It was certainly an adventure, though, and a very exciting trip to the islands.




After navigating through sand banks and extremely shallow waters, we land on Bakie Island! I'm thrilled to be in such a beautiful, unique, amazing place. We are immediately met by the island chief and many children who have come to greet us.

We are led to a camping spot on the beach, which is the most beautiful, isolated spot! In the next few hours, our only human sightings are of fisherman in dugout canoes far off in the distance. The water is very warm and looking out into the distance, it is amazing to think how far one would have to travel to reach land once again on the other side of the Atlantic.

At our camp spot there are maybe twenty hawks that fly right over us! They are so beautiful and large. At first it seems like they are trying to attack because they come as close as six or eight feet over our heads, circling. After a while of feeling a tad nervous about this incredible event, they fly off, as if nothing strange happened at all. It is also amazing to see the hundreds of thousands of small red crabs living in the tidal river between our camp spot and the village. Each of them dig out their holes and scurry back into them when we get close. With so many of them scurrying at the same time, it is almost as if the ground is moving underneath our feet.

The next few days are a little bit of a blur. Matt and I are both quite sick and stay in our tent, which we've used to create shade from the intense heat of the sun. We are both very glad that we felt healthy and were able to enjoy the first day on the island, because the rest of the time we are both very weak. It is funny to think about how it is probably the most beautiful place I will ever be sick in my entire life, though. :)

Our crew comes to visit/check-up on us a few times, bringing us food and splashing around in the ocean. They like to dig quickly into the sand and uncover the crabs that were hiding underground.






And then, as quickly as we embarked on our journey, we are returning again.

Daru 2

Reflections of our second week in Daru village....

One hour of total gardening time...most of it watering and planting seeds.

Across the river from a bamboo grove, we find a sandy beach, where we enjoy sitting and reading in the shade.

We pound rice in a giant wooden mortar and pestle (for about 5 minutes)...which is much more tiring than it looks.  We have new respect for the children after we watch them tirelessly go at the rice for an hour.

Eat river frog for the first time, which is DELICIOUS!  The frog was caught with a fishing rod by the German volunteer, Nicholas, and his friend who lives in the village.

Matt works on framing the roof of a local house while I watch the process of making pamine oil, which they use for cooking as frequently as one might use vegetable oil in the States. The process consists of stomping on a massive amount of fruits taken from a specific type of palm tree in a giant pit with water. The oil then sits on the top (great density lesson for kids--I can't stop thinking about teaching) and they skim it off and boil it in a large barrell over a fire for quite some time. The result is a wonderful orangey colored oil.

Someone finds an airplane magazine from Qatar Air and when they flip through the pages, they keep asking if I am the people in the ads. A great moment for me was when the kids thought that I was Scarlett Johanssan (sp?) in a perfume ad. Because all white people look alike....

We wake up one morning to hear that a woman from the village has gone into labor and six men from her family carried her in a hammock the six miles to the nearest village with a hospital. The six men took turns carrying her, two men at a time.

The ants here are amazing! But, if an ant bites you, they draw blood...sometimes we look like we're dancing along the paths, because we are trying to be light in our flip-flops, for fear of ants.

Showers by starlight have become a part of our daily ritual. It is nice to get cool right after the sun has disappeared and neat to see so many stars.

Pineapples, pineapples, pineapples. Oh, how I love the pineapples here. They are so sweet, juicy, and delicious. I have NEVER tasted anything close to the taste of the pineapples here.

We try new foods: fritambo (a deer-like animal named, duiker) and cacari, (sp?) which is a delicious fruit with cacao seeds.

Booberry (sp?) and Sad Baby are two of the most popular musical artists, if you can call them that, so, you should look them up if you have the time. Then you'll get a sense of the nightly dance parties that happen in Daru village.

As we wait for a "poda poda" bus on the road back to Kenema, we see a palm tree with a few holes in it. When we ask, we learn that at that junction, a hamlet used to exist. When the war happened, the entire village, with the exception of one person, was killed. The bullet holes in the palm trees are all that remains.

Here are some more photos of Daru life:

 Ladies making fishing nets out of the reeds you see on the floor. The woman in front is blind and does a lot of weaving throughout the day.

 On my way to go fishing with the entire village.

 Some really intimidating and beautiful women we met while walking to the next village to go pick up our machetes.

 You guessed it! This is the blacksmith shop.

 This picture reminds me of "Where's Waldo" except it is pretty easy to find the only woman who just happens to be the only white person sitting amongst the religious men during a ceremony. And no, I did not choose to sit there...they cleared a spot for Matt and I to sit, so we sat there.

 Some men in Daru were in the process of building the house behind them. They fill in the gaps between the wooden structure with mud. When they saw I had my camera, they insisted that I take their photo.

 These grasshoppers were EVERYWHERE! They are very beautiful. This one is eating a papaya that fell from a tree.

 Don't be fooled by the dimples and cute smile. This young girl is merciless. She and her sister would terrorize each other all day long, laughing throughout the entire thing. I've never seen higher pain tolerance or more determination in any kid, ever. Matt and I had many conversations about Amazonian women fighters because of these little girls...I wish I had a video to show because if I had not seen the drive with which these sisters continuously tried to hurt one another, I would not believe it myself. But, as violent as it seems to me....I never heard either of them cry. All I heard was them laughing...even when they were pinned to the ground.

 Alpha!

 I play "toast" with the kids.

 Matt with Doe, our farming boss.

Ouiya with our very last delicious pineapple. 

Daru Village

Daru village is very off the beaten path. The village is located very near to the Liberian border right on the edge of the Gola Forest. When we arrive we are instantly swarmed by kids, who are very affectionate and have no "awareness of body and space"--Crystal and Edward, that was for you. Seriously though, I have never been more physically touched at one time by so many hands...it was a little overwhelming. They were very interested in Matt's beard and my fingernails. They lead us by the hands to their school, down a winding path through the forest. 

Then we hang out on the porch of our house and sing songs, play games, and learn numbers and other Mende phrases. We now know how to say hello, how are you, I'm fine, how did you sleep, and yes in Mende. Although that might be my limit, Matt is brilliant with new languages and knows more than me. They have given us African names, and although no one but us finds it humorous here...they named Matt, "Jo", and me, "Mama", so we are Jo Mama!

After our first night, we find that our expectation of what it would be like in a small rural village is very, very wrong. This village LOVES music, dancing, and boomboxes. From about 9-midnight, a huge boombox blasts popular music and many kids, babies, parents, and grandparents gather in the square right outside our house to dance the night away. We have pretty much memorized the 10 songs they have in their tape that plays over and over. Earplugs.....priceless.

We came to Daru through WWOOF, and planned on doing farming. After one week, we have done a cumulative 1.5 hrs worth of farming. But, we aren't complaining. Being in the village is relaxing and peaceful. The sun is really hot here, so people mostly try to stay out of it as much as possible! We love taking walks to nearby villages, keeping our eyes out for monkeys jumping through the trees.

One day we went to a neighboring village to pick up machetes that we ordered (for bushwacking) and instead ended up witnessing a cultural dance that was part of an initiation ceremony for a women's society.  I really enjoyed hearing live singing and percussion.  Live music has been conspicuously absent in our travel so far.  We've gotten very aquainted with a select few radio hits, but this was the first singing I've heard.  The music was really fresh though, rhythms I've never heard before.

This is a photo of cassava leaves that are found in the Daru garden. They are used to make cassava leaf plassas/dishes that are really yummy, although I prefer potato leaf. The tubers found underground are also eaten, and frequently. They are bright white on the inside and on the outside have a brown thin bark-like cover. Otherwise they look remarkably like a sweet potato or yam. Cassavas can be eaten raw, or cooked a variety of ways. I will really miss eating cassava!





On Wednesday, we did some fishing.  It seemed as if almost everyone in the village was participating.  In the morning Alex, myself, and a small group of men went in to the bush to find the "medicine," a vine that grew in one part of the forest.  We chopped some and brought it back to the river.  On the river bank, everyone beat the vines, either whipping them against rocks or hitting them with thick sticks, until they began to fray. 

The threads of the vines were pulled apart and then soaked in the river.  We're not 100% sure why, but we think that some chemicals in the vine make the fish lethargic.  As the medicine was working its way through the water, all the women hopped in to the river with nets (hand-made rope woven around a stick frame) and picked out every last tiny fish in the river. 

Compared with some of the huge catches we saw on the coast, this river has more modest offerings, but they've been tasty.  One fish was electric and I got a shock when I touched it.

One night we awoke to terrible wailing, a man in tremendous anguish.  In the morning we were told that his two-year old child had died.  Nicholas, a German volunteer who's been staying in the village for the past four months, said that it's the second infant to have died during his stay.  Apart from this incident, I think we've both been struck by how disengaged the parents seem from their children, at least by American standards.  It seems that once they can walk, the parents entrust them to 'the village'--following around their barely older siblings.

Here are some photos that I love from our time in Daru:

 When the surrounding villages came to Daru for a ceremony/festival, everyone dressed up in their nicest clothes, gathered together for dancing and singing, met for religious reasons, and enjoyed each others company.

 Alex, Alpha (our host in Daru) and Matt with our new machetes!

 Me using my new machete in the field clearing a plot of land for planting. Even though it is the dry season, the land is very wet here, so the earth is build up around motes of water, which is then scooped up and tossed over the planted ground for watering every morning during the driest months. Working with a machete is a lot harder than it looks!

 Fati became a fast friend of mine in Daru. She has a four month year old son and is constantly doing the laundry! Here she does her usual morning laundry for about 20 minutes....when Matt and I do our laundry it takes us significantly longer and the villagers all gather around and laugh at us.   :)

 Some kids. The baby is Fati's baby. It is very common for kids to scoop up babies and then be "in charge" of them for a while while the mother is busy, for example, doing the laundry.

 Here, "the commando" as he likes to call himself, holds up a HUGE bug for us to see.

 A typical woman in Daru. She's just picked vegetables and will keep them balanced on her head as she walks where she needs to go, with her child firmly strapped to her back.

 Alpha's son, Abu, is only two years old. He loves to grab onto my legs and hold my hand when I walk everywhere.

Matt watches boys play on our porch. Our porch is never empty...the kids come to see us and play. When we don't want to play, they will play with each other.