The halfway point
By David Krueger
Thursday marked the exact midpoint of my trip to Sierra Leone. I’ve been here for 42 days, and will be leaving in 42 more.
I realized this fact two weekends ago while lying in bed trying not to get sick. Even then, while I had my head under a pillow, I didn’t want to leave. I was sick in Sierra Leone, and, even now, there’s no place I’d rather be sick.
When I first arrived here, the number of days I would be here (84) seemed rather daunting. I wasn’t worried I wouldn’t make it or anything like that, but almost three months is a long time to stay in a foreign land.
Now I can’t believe it’s already half over. The time has just flown by. That’s a testament to how much fun I’m having in Salone, and how much I enjoy being here.
It makes me sad that starting today I will be closer to the end of my trip than the beginning. I’ve had a number of incredible opportunities in my first six weeks here, and still have a few things left to check off on my Sierra Leone To-Do List in my final weeks here.
I want to go to River No. 2. Everyone says it’s the most beautiful beach in Sierra Leone. I want to see for myself. In order to verify this fact, I’ll also need to see numerous other beaches in the area. Comparing how beautiful and awesome beaches are might be the most fun activity in the history of the world.
For the last two weeks I’ve been trying to get to the Chimpanzee Sanctuary, and see the waterfalls on the way there. Two weekends ago I got sick and couldn’t move, let alone see chimpanzees, and last Saturday when I was supposed to go it rained constantly, making us question how much fun a trip to waterfalls and chimpanzees would be.
There’s still so much of the country I want to see. I want to see the other big cities I’ve read so much about in the news: Bo, Kenema, Kono and Makeni.
On the other side, I want to see the smaller areas and a few tourist spots, like the hippopotamuses on Tewai Island.
I want to be a fixture at Atlantic Crossing, Aces and Old School on as many Friday and Saturday nights as possible, and not lose my cell phone again at any of those places.
I would love to eat a bread and beans sandwich and not get sick.
I hope to continue writing columns that at least a few people enjoy reading about all of these activities.
Above all, I want to have a happy and healthy end to my trip.
The first 42 days haven’t all been perfect. I’ve had my share of dilemmas in Salone too.
The first one that comes to mind is the spiders in Kambia, but that’s not the worst event. It’s close, but that title has to go to my room being broken into. Justified or not, it changed my perception of safety here in Freetown. I’m still careful about locking my bags and my room when I’m gone, and I am probably overly observant of people while in large crowds.
Next was the weekend I spent unable to leave bed. I still don’t know who to blame for this. It was my decision to eat the sandwich, but other people were going and encouraged me to come. Plus, the cook herself has to take some (or most) of the burden for giving me an unhygienic sandwich right?
Finally the Kambia Spider Wars. That wasn’t fun. I still think about it some nights while lying in bed. I don’t sleep very well afterwards.
However, meeting Mr. Njai in Kambia was so incredible it greatly diminished the horror of the Spider Wars. The food in Sierra Leone is so delicious (I still love stew green and ground nut soup) and dwarfs the drama caused by that one bread and beans sandwich. Everyone I’ve met in Sierra Leone has been so welcoming and helpful it’s helped reduce the fear and anger I felt after the break in.
I’m really becoming at home in Salone, and don’t really even want to think about leaving it.
Yesterday I began with a quote from a Beatles’ song. Today I’m going to end with one from rock group Bon Jovi’s mega-hit “Living on a Prayer.” The beginning of the chorus states: “we’re halfway there, woooooah oh, living on a prayer.”
I pray the next 42 days are just as phenomenal, informative, astonishing, beautiful and life-changing as the first 42.
With less break-ins and spiders.
Monday, August 15, 2011
Column No. 23- I get by with a little help from my friends
I get by with a little help from my friends
By David Krueger
The Beatles, one of, if not the most famous rock group of all time, once sang “I get by with a little help from my friends.”
Apparently, they interned in Freetown.
Before I left America, I was worried I might get a little lonely in Sierra Leone. I didn’t know anybody here and didn’t (and still don’t) speak very good Krio.
However, it turns out my concern was unfounded. I was immediately welcomed into the Awoko family, which is just that, a family. Everyone looks out for everyone else. I’ve been incredibly blessed to have a great group of coworkers who constantly check on me to make sure I have stuff to do and that I’m doing okay and feeling happy and healthy.
Unfortunately, I can’t live at work. I’m not sure where I’d sleep. Perhaps there’s room by the cashier’s office and computer desk, but I’m not sure how comfortable it would be. It would also be hard to cook and shower.
So at night I head home to the YMCA, but I still don’t get lonely. I have another family waiting for me when I get back home. That’s right, I call the YMCA my home.
There’s a great group of people that are there, just like my roommates back in America. We ask about each other’s days, get some dinner and talk about life in Freetown before we all venture off to bed.
On the weekends, we go out to the bars together, and look out for one another to make sure everyone gets home safely. If one of us gets very sick, let’s say from food poisoning, another one rushes to the rescue and gets the sick individual home safely.
It’s a very impressive group of people.
For instance, look at Mohamed. He’s a first year student at Fourah Bay College, working on a degree in peace and conflict studies. His goal is to be President of Sierra Leone. I’ve already assured him that when I’m President of the United States, the U.S. and Salone will have an incredibly strong relationship. I’m looking forward to this day.
Mo also was a receptionist at the YMCA, but left to go study in the U.K. He came back and works at the YMCA, taking great care of everyone. He arranges rooms (which he also orchestrates cheaper, long-stay rates for), dinner/dancing excursions, money exchanging and anything else someone needs. Mohamed hopes to study in America through the Fulbright Scholarship, and then come back to Sierra Leone to help his country. I can’t think of anybody better suited for this award.
Then there’s Anaïs, a PhD student working for the Max Planck Institute for Social Anthropology. The eldest of the group, she has taken on the roles of pharmacist, chef, accountant, tour guide, Krio teacher and therapist among others. In fact, it was Anaïs who got me home while I was the sickest I’ve ever been in my life. I’m still thanking her for that.
As a child, Anaïs lived in Freetown while her father worked at the department of French at Fourah Bay College for four years. She returned for a research project in 2008 and is now studying the role of the Sherbro ethnic group in national reconstruction and social cohesion in Sierra Leone. She has been here for four months and will remain here until midway through 2012.
Anaïs enjoys the provinces more than the big city of Freetown, but admitted she likes hanging out on the balcony of the YMCA, where she feels like “I am part of the furniture now.” She also likes dancing in the rain at Krio Wendy’s.
Magdalena, who hails from Austria, writes reports for the Campaign for Good Governance. “Auntie M,” as she’s been called (see, I told you we were a family) hand-picked Freetown over other possible summer destinations in Nairobi and South Africa.
“Auntie M” wants to work for a non-profit group, and hopes her experience here will help her with that. She’s working on getting two Master’s Degrees back home, which should also benefit her job hunt. Like Anaïs, she likes going out in Freetown. She loves the “lively” mood around the city, and the “beautiful, beautiful landscape” in the area around it.
There’s also a large German contingent at the YMCA, starting with Katharina. She is an intern at the Association for Rural Development’s Microfinance institute. She observes and helps with the loan disbursement process, which decides who gets approved for a loan.
Katharina likes her job because it’s exactly what she wants to do when she’s done with school. Her favorite part of the job is actually visiting the clients and getting to know different people in various tribes outside of the big city. Like everybody else at the YMCA, she enjoys going out, and is having a great time in Sierra Leone.
Finally, there’s David. Or “German David” as he’s sometimes known. (You might have correctly guessed that that would make me “American David.”) Born in Sierra Leone, he left for Germany when he was one year old. He came back to Salone in 2005.
Now, he has one year left at Fourah Bay College, where he’s studying economics. Even though we share the same name, there are very few physical similarities between us. I’m about 1.7 meters tall, and he has to be over 2 meters in height. He speaks German and Krio (and, fortunately, English), I speak English and a very little bit of Spanish. He’s tall, dark and handsome, I’m short, pale and hopefully at least decent-looking.
There’s a saying back home that says something along the lines of friends are the family we choose. Or is it that friends can become your family? I’m not really sure. The main point is to describe how important friends are in our lives.
My trip to Salone wouldn’t be the same without them.
By David Krueger
The Beatles, one of, if not the most famous rock group of all time, once sang “I get by with a little help from my friends.”
Apparently, they interned in Freetown.
Before I left America, I was worried I might get a little lonely in Sierra Leone. I didn’t know anybody here and didn’t (and still don’t) speak very good Krio.
However, it turns out my concern was unfounded. I was immediately welcomed into the Awoko family, which is just that, a family. Everyone looks out for everyone else. I’ve been incredibly blessed to have a great group of coworkers who constantly check on me to make sure I have stuff to do and that I’m doing okay and feeling happy and healthy.
Unfortunately, I can’t live at work. I’m not sure where I’d sleep. Perhaps there’s room by the cashier’s office and computer desk, but I’m not sure how comfortable it would be. It would also be hard to cook and shower.
So at night I head home to the YMCA, but I still don’t get lonely. I have another family waiting for me when I get back home. That’s right, I call the YMCA my home.
There’s a great group of people that are there, just like my roommates back in America. We ask about each other’s days, get some dinner and talk about life in Freetown before we all venture off to bed.
On the weekends, we go out to the bars together, and look out for one another to make sure everyone gets home safely. If one of us gets very sick, let’s say from food poisoning, another one rushes to the rescue and gets the sick individual home safely.
It’s a very impressive group of people.
For instance, look at Mohamed. He’s a first year student at Fourah Bay College, working on a degree in peace and conflict studies. His goal is to be President of Sierra Leone. I’ve already assured him that when I’m President of the United States, the U.S. and Salone will have an incredibly strong relationship. I’m looking forward to this day.
Mo also was a receptionist at the YMCA, but left to go study in the U.K. He came back and works at the YMCA, taking great care of everyone. He arranges rooms (which he also orchestrates cheaper, long-stay rates for), dinner/dancing excursions, money exchanging and anything else someone needs. Mohamed hopes to study in America through the Fulbright Scholarship, and then come back to Sierra Leone to help his country. I can’t think of anybody better suited for this award.
Then there’s Anaïs, a PhD student working for the Max Planck Institute for Social Anthropology. The eldest of the group, she has taken on the roles of pharmacist, chef, accountant, tour guide, Krio teacher and therapist among others. In fact, it was Anaïs who got me home while I was the sickest I’ve ever been in my life. I’m still thanking her for that.
As a child, Anaïs lived in Freetown while her father worked at the department of French at Fourah Bay College for four years. She returned for a research project in 2008 and is now studying the role of the Sherbro ethnic group in national reconstruction and social cohesion in Sierra Leone. She has been here for four months and will remain here until midway through 2012.
Anaïs enjoys the provinces more than the big city of Freetown, but admitted she likes hanging out on the balcony of the YMCA, where she feels like “I am part of the furniture now.” She also likes dancing in the rain at Krio Wendy’s.
Magdalena, who hails from Austria, writes reports for the Campaign for Good Governance. “Auntie M,” as she’s been called (see, I told you we were a family) hand-picked Freetown over other possible summer destinations in Nairobi and South Africa.
“Auntie M” wants to work for a non-profit group, and hopes her experience here will help her with that. She’s working on getting two Master’s Degrees back home, which should also benefit her job hunt. Like Anaïs, she likes going out in Freetown. She loves the “lively” mood around the city, and the “beautiful, beautiful landscape” in the area around it.
There’s also a large German contingent at the YMCA, starting with Katharina. She is an intern at the Association for Rural Development’s Microfinance institute. She observes and helps with the loan disbursement process, which decides who gets approved for a loan.
Katharina likes her job because it’s exactly what she wants to do when she’s done with school. Her favorite part of the job is actually visiting the clients and getting to know different people in various tribes outside of the big city. Like everybody else at the YMCA, she enjoys going out, and is having a great time in Sierra Leone.
Finally, there’s David. Or “German David” as he’s sometimes known. (You might have correctly guessed that that would make me “American David.”) Born in Sierra Leone, he left for Germany when he was one year old. He came back to Salone in 2005.
Now, he has one year left at Fourah Bay College, where he’s studying economics. Even though we share the same name, there are very few physical similarities between us. I’m about 1.7 meters tall, and he has to be over 2 meters in height. He speaks German and Krio (and, fortunately, English), I speak English and a very little bit of Spanish. He’s tall, dark and handsome, I’m short, pale and hopefully at least decent-looking.
There’s a saying back home that says something along the lines of friends are the family we choose. Or is it that friends can become your family? I’m not really sure. The main point is to describe how important friends are in our lives.
My trip to Salone wouldn’t be the same without them.
Column No. 22- Writing Postcards
Writing postcards
By David Krueger
I got an unforeseen day off on Monday when I woke up and my left eye was redder than a fire extinguisher. I had this feeling that I shouldn’t go to work and spread my eye infection to all my coworkers so I remained at home and got a few things done.
One of those things was writing postcards. I had been putting it off for about three weeks, and finally didn’t have an excuse anymore. It’s not that I don’t love my friends and family. It’s just that writing and addressing 15 postcards takes a while. Two and a half hours to be exact.
However, once I got on a postcard roll the time passed rather quickly. I figured out a “system” that for some reason I believed made the process go faster.
First, I addressed all the postcards. This is the biggest part of what caused the delay. I had to talk to my mother and father back in America to get addresses for 13 of the 15 postcards. Once I did that on Sunday, there was really no reason not to start.
After all of the postcards were addressed, then the process of actually writing messages began. This part took the longest, but it was by far the most fun. I had a rotation of stories that I could tell people based on what I thought they’d like to hear about.
For instance, my aunt and uncle who are very proud of my graduation from journalism school got to hear all about how awesome my job is. My friends back home in Marysville, where it rains a lot, got to hear about the rainy season. My father’s postcard began with a sentence in Krio.
The postcard to my mother assured her that I was doing fine and all of my friends and coworkers were taking good care of me, while the postcard to my grandparents talked about how much fun the family reunion in July looked based on the pictures I saw on Facebook.
I didn’t mention the eye infection in any of the postcards. It didn’t seem important enough to bring up.
There were a few similarities that each postcard shared. They all sent well wishes to the reader, hoping that their summer back home was going well. Each individual postcard was also dated (“8/8/11”) because I’m curious to see when they arrive at their destination. They are going all over the country, and even the world.
One is going to my aunt and uncle in Tennessee, on the east coast of the United States. A few are going to family members in the Midwest, and a large contingent are on their way to Washington State in the Pacific Northwest.
Now that I’m done and preparing to go to the post office to send these off once and for all, I’m realizing how therapeutic writing the postcards actually was. Yesterday morning wasn’t the best as I woke up with an eye that looked like it belonged to the Terminator.
But, as I wrote each postcard, and thought about some of the cool things I’ve done in the last month, I couldn’t help but smile as I realized what an extraordinary trip I’ve had. And I’m not even half done! That mark comes on Thursday.
I really began to appreciate all I’ve been through so far. The more I wrote “8/8/11” the more I couldn’t believe that it was already August 8th.
As soon as I finish writing this I’m going to run to the post office and ship these postcards off. I’m excited for them to reach their various destinations. I hope that they bring smiles to those who read them. I want someone to see a postcard in their mailbox and get really excited. I’m pretty sure that none of my friends and family have a postcard from Sierra Leone already.
The one, minor concern I have is whether or not the postcards will arrive. Any time something is shipped from one continent to another there are a number of chances for it to get lost. But I’m going to put my trust in the Sierra Leone and United States Postal Services, and hope that they can deliver my postcards for me.
I’m not going to go so far as to say it was a good thing I woke up Monday morning with an eye infection, but the negative occurrence was able to have a positive impact on my life and the lives of 29 people soon to receive postcards (some are addressed to entire families). I like turning bad events into good results.
It makes me feel like I’ve accomplished something, and triumphed over adversity.
The worst thing about eye infections, which I get back home way more often than I’d like to admit, is that I cannot wear my contact lenses. I have to wear my glasses if I want to be able to see, which I usually do. Unfortunately, I strongly dislike wearing my glasses. They’re too big for my head, and make my face look kind of funny.
On the other hand (or in this case, the other eye) the infection could have been a lot worse. My eye already almost looks normal, minus the glasses that are hanging over them. Plus, I finally had the time and energy to write 15 postcards, and send greetings from Sierra Leone across the world.
By David Krueger
I got an unforeseen day off on Monday when I woke up and my left eye was redder than a fire extinguisher. I had this feeling that I shouldn’t go to work and spread my eye infection to all my coworkers so I remained at home and got a few things done.
One of those things was writing postcards. I had been putting it off for about three weeks, and finally didn’t have an excuse anymore. It’s not that I don’t love my friends and family. It’s just that writing and addressing 15 postcards takes a while. Two and a half hours to be exact.
However, once I got on a postcard roll the time passed rather quickly. I figured out a “system” that for some reason I believed made the process go faster.
First, I addressed all the postcards. This is the biggest part of what caused the delay. I had to talk to my mother and father back in America to get addresses for 13 of the 15 postcards. Once I did that on Sunday, there was really no reason not to start.
After all of the postcards were addressed, then the process of actually writing messages began. This part took the longest, but it was by far the most fun. I had a rotation of stories that I could tell people based on what I thought they’d like to hear about.
For instance, my aunt and uncle who are very proud of my graduation from journalism school got to hear all about how awesome my job is. My friends back home in Marysville, where it rains a lot, got to hear about the rainy season. My father’s postcard began with a sentence in Krio.
The postcard to my mother assured her that I was doing fine and all of my friends and coworkers were taking good care of me, while the postcard to my grandparents talked about how much fun the family reunion in July looked based on the pictures I saw on Facebook.
I didn’t mention the eye infection in any of the postcards. It didn’t seem important enough to bring up.
There were a few similarities that each postcard shared. They all sent well wishes to the reader, hoping that their summer back home was going well. Each individual postcard was also dated (“8/8/11”) because I’m curious to see when they arrive at their destination. They are going all over the country, and even the world.
One is going to my aunt and uncle in Tennessee, on the east coast of the United States. A few are going to family members in the Midwest, and a large contingent are on their way to Washington State in the Pacific Northwest.
Now that I’m done and preparing to go to the post office to send these off once and for all, I’m realizing how therapeutic writing the postcards actually was. Yesterday morning wasn’t the best as I woke up with an eye that looked like it belonged to the Terminator.
But, as I wrote each postcard, and thought about some of the cool things I’ve done in the last month, I couldn’t help but smile as I realized what an extraordinary trip I’ve had. And I’m not even half done! That mark comes on Thursday.
I really began to appreciate all I’ve been through so far. The more I wrote “8/8/11” the more I couldn’t believe that it was already August 8th.
As soon as I finish writing this I’m going to run to the post office and ship these postcards off. I’m excited for them to reach their various destinations. I hope that they bring smiles to those who read them. I want someone to see a postcard in their mailbox and get really excited. I’m pretty sure that none of my friends and family have a postcard from Sierra Leone already.
The one, minor concern I have is whether or not the postcards will arrive. Any time something is shipped from one continent to another there are a number of chances for it to get lost. But I’m going to put my trust in the Sierra Leone and United States Postal Services, and hope that they can deliver my postcards for me.
I’m not going to go so far as to say it was a good thing I woke up Monday morning with an eye infection, but the negative occurrence was able to have a positive impact on my life and the lives of 29 people soon to receive postcards (some are addressed to entire families). I like turning bad events into good results.
It makes me feel like I’ve accomplished something, and triumphed over adversity.
The worst thing about eye infections, which I get back home way more often than I’d like to admit, is that I cannot wear my contact lenses. I have to wear my glasses if I want to be able to see, which I usually do. Unfortunately, I strongly dislike wearing my glasses. They’re too big for my head, and make my face look kind of funny.
On the other hand (or in this case, the other eye) the infection could have been a lot worse. My eye already almost looks normal, minus the glasses that are hanging over them. Plus, I finally had the time and energy to write 15 postcards, and send greetings from Sierra Leone across the world.
Column No. 21- My No. 1 Problem
My No. 1 problem
By David Krueger
There are many differences between the Sierra Leone and American cultures. This probably doesn’t surprise anybody.
What does surprise me is the one difference that has become the biggest challenge for me here in West Africa, and I bet it’s not what a person would expect. It’s certainly not the main issue I thought I’d be facing on my trip.
It’s not the food. That’s delicious. It’s not the sporadic electricity. I brought a lamp. It’s not even the driving, which can be reckless to say the least. I actually really like the motorbike rides.
No, the issue that I’m having the hardest time dealing with here is the assumption that seemingly everyone has that I have a lot of money.
Because I don’t.
I literally emptied my bank account to come here. When I get back to America, I’m going to have $0. I hope my father will be happy to see me on his couch for a couple days until I can find a job, since that’s probably what’s going to happen.
Every morning the first thing I do when I get to work is figure out how much money I spent the previous day and try to rework a budget for the remainder of the trip based on that. Right now it’s very close. If I eat nothing but bread the last two days I’m here I should be okay.
In other words, I’m not going to be buying much September 18th through the 22nd.
It’s not like I’ve been blowing through money uncontrollably either. Paying for my room is expensive, but aside from that I usually can slide by on about Le8,000 a day, which is about the equivalent of two U.S. Dollars. Really the only things I’ve purchased that I didn’t absolutely need were a Sierra Leone football jersey and an Africana shirt. You know what, no. I needed those.
But I didn’t have a lot of money before I came, and the money that I do have is quickly being taken away from me for lodging and food.
Money is my biggest concern for this trip. My health is a close second, but if I ever get really sick (even sicker than last weekend which I pray doesn’t happen) I’m going to need money to be okay.
All this leads me to my problem: everybody wants money from me. I’m convinced it’s the reason half of the people I’ve talked to in Salone approached me. Who am I kidding? It’s probably at least 90 percent.
I learned early on that people with white skin were automatically assumed to be rich. It probably doesn’t help that I wear button up shirts every day either. That’s not my fault though! I’m trying to be professional for work. Believe me, I’d much rather be wearing a t-shirt.
The truth is I feel bad when I say no. Friends and coworkers have told me not to worry about it; that they understand. But I still can’t shake the feeling that I’m disappointing them. Whether it was because of the color of my skin or not, they still came to me for help, and I couldn’t give it to them.
I really don’t like the feeling like I’ve let somebody down. Sometimes, I feel like as a poor white person, I’ve let everybody in this country down.
Believe me, if I’ve told you “no” (something I’m not particularly good at) I guarantee I feel just as bad if not worse than you do.
I know that I can’t change a countrywide stereotype with one article, especially since it is unlikely the people asking me for money will read this. Sometimes it’s just therapeutic to write about. I’m sure there’s at least one other white person somewhere in Freetown who feels bad when they turn someone requesting money down because they just don’t have it.
It’s been bumming me out since I got here, and I want to fix it. I wasn’t sure how, but I think I finally have a solid plan.
Sierra Leone, I know you like to bargain, so let’s try that. Right now, I have no money. It’s like I want to buy an Africana shirt, but don’t have sufficient funds. The merchant wants Le50,000, but all I have is Le5,000, and that’s obviously not enough. So what do you do?
You go home, get more cash and come back. Except in my case, there’s no more money at home. I’d have to really go home (to America) to get more money, and then come back. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do.
Years from now, when I’m old(er) and rich, I will come back to Sierra Leone. I will buy that Africana shirt, and help as many people here as I can while I’m at it. Now, I’m not going to be throwing money around in the streets and causing a riot, but I will find a way to help many of those in this great country.
I’ve had a lot of help here in Salone, and I want to give back. I really do. I just can’t right now.
By David Krueger
There are many differences between the Sierra Leone and American cultures. This probably doesn’t surprise anybody.
What does surprise me is the one difference that has become the biggest challenge for me here in West Africa, and I bet it’s not what a person would expect. It’s certainly not the main issue I thought I’d be facing on my trip.
It’s not the food. That’s delicious. It’s not the sporadic electricity. I brought a lamp. It’s not even the driving, which can be reckless to say the least. I actually really like the motorbike rides.
No, the issue that I’m having the hardest time dealing with here is the assumption that seemingly everyone has that I have a lot of money.
Because I don’t.
I literally emptied my bank account to come here. When I get back to America, I’m going to have $0. I hope my father will be happy to see me on his couch for a couple days until I can find a job, since that’s probably what’s going to happen.
Every morning the first thing I do when I get to work is figure out how much money I spent the previous day and try to rework a budget for the remainder of the trip based on that. Right now it’s very close. If I eat nothing but bread the last two days I’m here I should be okay.
In other words, I’m not going to be buying much September 18th through the 22nd.
It’s not like I’ve been blowing through money uncontrollably either. Paying for my room is expensive, but aside from that I usually can slide by on about Le8,000 a day, which is about the equivalent of two U.S. Dollars. Really the only things I’ve purchased that I didn’t absolutely need were a Sierra Leone football jersey and an Africana shirt. You know what, no. I needed those.
But I didn’t have a lot of money before I came, and the money that I do have is quickly being taken away from me for lodging and food.
Money is my biggest concern for this trip. My health is a close second, but if I ever get really sick (even sicker than last weekend which I pray doesn’t happen) I’m going to need money to be okay.
All this leads me to my problem: everybody wants money from me. I’m convinced it’s the reason half of the people I’ve talked to in Salone approached me. Who am I kidding? It’s probably at least 90 percent.
I learned early on that people with white skin were automatically assumed to be rich. It probably doesn’t help that I wear button up shirts every day either. That’s not my fault though! I’m trying to be professional for work. Believe me, I’d much rather be wearing a t-shirt.
The truth is I feel bad when I say no. Friends and coworkers have told me not to worry about it; that they understand. But I still can’t shake the feeling that I’m disappointing them. Whether it was because of the color of my skin or not, they still came to me for help, and I couldn’t give it to them.
I really don’t like the feeling like I’ve let somebody down. Sometimes, I feel like as a poor white person, I’ve let everybody in this country down.
Believe me, if I’ve told you “no” (something I’m not particularly good at) I guarantee I feel just as bad if not worse than you do.
I know that I can’t change a countrywide stereotype with one article, especially since it is unlikely the people asking me for money will read this. Sometimes it’s just therapeutic to write about. I’m sure there’s at least one other white person somewhere in Freetown who feels bad when they turn someone requesting money down because they just don’t have it.
It’s been bumming me out since I got here, and I want to fix it. I wasn’t sure how, but I think I finally have a solid plan.
Sierra Leone, I know you like to bargain, so let’s try that. Right now, I have no money. It’s like I want to buy an Africana shirt, but don’t have sufficient funds. The merchant wants Le50,000, but all I have is Le5,000, and that’s obviously not enough. So what do you do?
You go home, get more cash and come back. Except in my case, there’s no more money at home. I’d have to really go home (to America) to get more money, and then come back. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do.
Years from now, when I’m old(er) and rich, I will come back to Sierra Leone. I will buy that Africana shirt, and help as many people here as I can while I’m at it. Now, I’m not going to be throwing money around in the streets and causing a riot, but I will find a way to help many of those in this great country.
I’ve had a lot of help here in Salone, and I want to give back. I really do. I just can’t right now.
Thursday, August 4, 2011
So, uh...what the hell?
I know I’m halfway around the world, and I know there are a million other things I should be more worried about than this, but I just can’t stop thinking about one thing:
Seattle Seahawks, what the hell are you thinking?
I don’ t know how to feel. On one hand I’m excited, because Sidney Rice is coming to town. So is Zach Miller. The former single-handedly beat me one week in fantasy football. The latter helped me dominate my league(s). [Until both championship games. I don’t want to talk about it.]
And who’s here to throw to them? Tavaris Jackson. The same Tavaris Jackson I’ve heard my grandfather complain about the entire 2010 football season. I mean the ENTIRE football season. “Where the hell is he running?” and “I wonder if he knows how stupid that was” were the two nicest things he said about him.
It’s ok though. We have “options” at quarterback. Option No. 2 (or No. 1…who the hell knows? Nobody’s really winning this game) is the great Charlie Whitehurst. I say “great” because just typing “Charlie Whitehurst” makes me depressed. I’m in a humid, dark room in Sierra Leone with a sore throat and babies crying all around me. This might just be what puts me over the edge.
I know Matt Hasselbeck was old(ish). At 36, he’s closer to 40 than 30. He’s also closer to 60 than 1, but who cares? People love Matt Hasselbeck. I love Matt Hasselbeck. People will rally around Matt Hasselbeck. Matt Hasselbeck demolished the Saints with a slightly above average receiving corps and an offensive line that was held together with silly putty. The large man across the street could probably be at least a third string offensive lineman on the Seattle Seahawks.
Now, Matt’s gone. Although if he had to go somewhere, I’m so glad he went to Tennessee, who I’ve decided have officially leap-frogged the Minnesota Vikings as my second favorite team. They may even take over the No. 1 spot and the dynamic duo that is Jackson and Whitehurst. (That sounds like the crappiest law firm ever. I hate this.) I only know four people on the team:
1.) Jake Locker (he’s all you really need to know. He’s the future!) 2.) Hasselbeck (he’s going to mold the future. Jake lucked the heck out. 3.) Chris Johnson (almost murdered my fantasy football team last year, then saved it a couple times; he’ll be ok this year though. Matt will whip him into shape.) 4.) Kenny Britt (I think he’s on the Titans. I’m not really sure. I feel like I’ve heard of Tennessee Titan Receiver Kenny Britt before, but now I’m having second thoughts).
The moral of the story is: I’m not going to miss much being gone for the first three weeks of the football season. I might not even check until I get back. News/scores are kind of tough to get here and I’d rather not know the Seahawks are 0-3 running the “Owlcat” (a formation they’ll develop with Jackson, Whitehurst and fellow All-Star/rock star QBs Jake Delhomme and Derek Anderson behind center). Again, why the hell not?
Of course, it’s always possible that the General Manager of a professional football team knows what he’s doing. Maybe it’s a strategy. Upgrade every position on the football field except the position that matters the most.
I didn’t say it was a good strategy.
I’m sad. I always envisioned Jake and Matt on the same team…only it was the Seahawks! Can you imagine Hasselbeck mentoring Jake, who will have Zach Miller and Sidney Rice as his go to guys for the next four years? The Seahawks could have made it happen. But they didn’t.
And now I’m sitting in Africa, typing this and trying not to cry. I had to go buy my first chocolate of the week because I was so sad. Which wasn’t the worst thing. Twix are awesome! So I guess this wasn’t a complete loss. At least not until the next NFL season starts.
Luckily, my fantasy football team will still be awesome. This year we’re going from 2nd to 1st. Together we can…win the Together We Can football league. Gramps, Chris, Swaney, Casey, KJ, Natalie, Chris’s Dad, and all the people I don’t know. It’s on! David’s back for 2011 and I’m promising more trades (at least trade offers), smack talk and victories than last year!
This took a weird turn. I wasn’t going to announce my fantasy football dominance when this started. But that’s how life is sometimes. You never know what’s going to happen. It’s always up in the air. You win some, you lose some.
Unless you’re starting Tavaris Jackson or Charlie Whitehurst at quarterback. Then you’re going to lose everything.
Seattle Seahawks, what the hell are you thinking?
I don’ t know how to feel. On one hand I’m excited, because Sidney Rice is coming to town. So is Zach Miller. The former single-handedly beat me one week in fantasy football. The latter helped me dominate my league(s). [Until both championship games. I don’t want to talk about it.]
And who’s here to throw to them? Tavaris Jackson. The same Tavaris Jackson I’ve heard my grandfather complain about the entire 2010 football season. I mean the ENTIRE football season. “Where the hell is he running?” and “I wonder if he knows how stupid that was” were the two nicest things he said about him.
It’s ok though. We have “options” at quarterback. Option No. 2 (or No. 1…who the hell knows? Nobody’s really winning this game) is the great Charlie Whitehurst. I say “great” because just typing “Charlie Whitehurst” makes me depressed. I’m in a humid, dark room in Sierra Leone with a sore throat and babies crying all around me. This might just be what puts me over the edge.
I know Matt Hasselbeck was old(ish). At 36, he’s closer to 40 than 30. He’s also closer to 60 than 1, but who cares? People love Matt Hasselbeck. I love Matt Hasselbeck. People will rally around Matt Hasselbeck. Matt Hasselbeck demolished the Saints with a slightly above average receiving corps and an offensive line that was held together with silly putty. The large man across the street could probably be at least a third string offensive lineman on the Seattle Seahawks.
Now, Matt’s gone. Although if he had to go somewhere, I’m so glad he went to Tennessee, who I’ve decided have officially leap-frogged the Minnesota Vikings as my second favorite team. They may even take over the No. 1 spot and the dynamic duo that is Jackson and Whitehurst. (That sounds like the crappiest law firm ever. I hate this.) I only know four people on the team:
1.) Jake Locker (he’s all you really need to know. He’s the future!) 2.) Hasselbeck (he’s going to mold the future. Jake lucked the heck out. 3.) Chris Johnson (almost murdered my fantasy football team last year, then saved it a couple times; he’ll be ok this year though. Matt will whip him into shape.) 4.) Kenny Britt (I think he’s on the Titans. I’m not really sure. I feel like I’ve heard of Tennessee Titan Receiver Kenny Britt before, but now I’m having second thoughts).
The moral of the story is: I’m not going to miss much being gone for the first three weeks of the football season. I might not even check until I get back. News/scores are kind of tough to get here and I’d rather not know the Seahawks are 0-3 running the “Owlcat” (a formation they’ll develop with Jackson, Whitehurst and fellow All-Star/rock star QBs Jake Delhomme and Derek Anderson behind center). Again, why the hell not?
Of course, it’s always possible that the General Manager of a professional football team knows what he’s doing. Maybe it’s a strategy. Upgrade every position on the football field except the position that matters the most.
I didn’t say it was a good strategy.
I’m sad. I always envisioned Jake and Matt on the same team…only it was the Seahawks! Can you imagine Hasselbeck mentoring Jake, who will have Zach Miller and Sidney Rice as his go to guys for the next four years? The Seahawks could have made it happen. But they didn’t.
And now I’m sitting in Africa, typing this and trying not to cry. I had to go buy my first chocolate of the week because I was so sad. Which wasn’t the worst thing. Twix are awesome! So I guess this wasn’t a complete loss. At least not until the next NFL season starts.
Luckily, my fantasy football team will still be awesome. This year we’re going from 2nd to 1st. Together we can…win the Together We Can football league. Gramps, Chris, Swaney, Casey, KJ, Natalie, Chris’s Dad, and all the people I don’t know. It’s on! David’s back for 2011 and I’m promising more trades (at least trade offers), smack talk and victories than last year!
This took a weird turn. I wasn’t going to announce my fantasy football dominance when this started. But that’s how life is sometimes. You never know what’s going to happen. It’s always up in the air. You win some, you lose some.
Unless you’re starting Tavaris Jackson or Charlie Whitehurst at quarterback. Then you’re going to lose everything.
Column No. 20-Learning Krio
Learning Krio
By David Krueger
It made sense to me that if I was going to live somewhere for three months I should speak the language. If I was in a foreign land where I couldn’t talk to anybody for 84 days, I could see myself getting lonely very fast.
I read up on Sierra Leone, and learned that English was the official language. This made me really excited. I speak English! This was going to be a breeze.
Then I heard about Krio, which people and books described as “pigeon English” or “broken English.” Again, I felt confident in my ability to communicate with those speaking Krio and turned my attention to other items on my pre-departure checklist, like vaccinations, which were not fun.
Turns out I should have done a bit more brushing up on the Krio language. It is based on English, and I can understand some of it, but it’s not nearly as easy to pick up as I had hoped. After actually studying Krio for the better part of last week I know about five phrases.
Fortunately, I can get pretty far with those five phrases.
Phrase No. 1: “How di bodi?” See this is easy to understand in English. Literally, “how is the body,” this is the most common greeting I’ve found in Sierra Leone, along with Phrases Nos. 2 and 3: “How di wok” (“How is work?”) and “How di morning/day/evening” (“How is the morning/day/evening”)?
These make up the bulk of the Krio that I actually speak on a daily basis, which sadly isn’t very much yet. However, once in a while I like to throw a new phrase at my coworkers and impress them. That’s where phrases Nos. 4 and 5 come in. Sometimes it’s an “I dae go na hose” (“I’m going to go to my house”) or a “hosei you dae go” (“where are you going”)?
I’m not going to say that’s all a person needs to get by in Sierra Leone, but it’ll get someone a long way. I wanted to learn more though so I borrowed a Krio Manuel from a friend and began taking notes. There I learned numerous gems like “tehnki” (“thanks”), “ohmohs” (“how much”) and “reni” (“rainy”).
Then things got really fun.
I came across my favorite Krio phrase by far: “aw de go de go.” I just love how this sounds. If you’re reading this column out loud, you just had a lot of fun. Admit it. It means “how are things?” and is a useful phrase that can be used every day with everyone.
I can also introduce myself, and provide the utmost basic information to a stranger. Although it’s rare for me to try to throw down this much Krio at once, I have tried, rather unsuccessfully, to get through it a couple times. I messed it up, but the people I was talking to still seemed to understand what I was trying to say and smiled as I gave it my best.
I started with a “kushe” (“hello”) to get the conversation started. After a greeting I was asked my name. I answered that it was David and “a kohmohn na America” (“I am from America”). My chatting companion seemed pleased and then asked me a question I didn’t understand.
But I didn’t panic. I thought I heard “wok” in the question so I shot right into the reason I was here. “A kam wok na Awoko Newspaper,” I said proudly.
Turns out, I hadn’t been asked why I was here. I wasn’t even asked about work. The gentleman I was talking to asked me how long I was here.
At least he seemed to be impressed by my pride in my employer.
Will there be a column completely in Krio before I go? It’s highly unlikely. But it’s good to know what people are trying to say to me, as well as what’s going on in the world around me. I can understand some Krio if I listen very carefully.
I also know when my coworkers are talking about me. Although, the fact that they’re looking at me and smiling while they talk also kind of helps to give it away.
Lately, I have a tendency to blend Krio and English into what I like to call “Kri-lish.” A common Kri-lish phrase is “hello, how di body?” Another good one is “Aw di wok go yesterday?” I like this because everybody can understand Kri-lish. There’s usually sufficient Krio for Sierra Leoneans to understand, and just enough English for me to get by.
Over the next two months I hope to continue to learn more and more Krio. While I doubt I’ll find a phrase cooler than “aw de go de go,” I would like to one day be able to carry whole conversations in Krio, even if it’s just a 30-second chat. I think I’m off to a good start.
A nem David ehn a de lan lili bit na Krio (“my name is David and I am learning a little bit of Krio”).
By David Krueger
It made sense to me that if I was going to live somewhere for three months I should speak the language. If I was in a foreign land where I couldn’t talk to anybody for 84 days, I could see myself getting lonely very fast.
I read up on Sierra Leone, and learned that English was the official language. This made me really excited. I speak English! This was going to be a breeze.
Then I heard about Krio, which people and books described as “pigeon English” or “broken English.” Again, I felt confident in my ability to communicate with those speaking Krio and turned my attention to other items on my pre-departure checklist, like vaccinations, which were not fun.
Turns out I should have done a bit more brushing up on the Krio language. It is based on English, and I can understand some of it, but it’s not nearly as easy to pick up as I had hoped. After actually studying Krio for the better part of last week I know about five phrases.
Fortunately, I can get pretty far with those five phrases.
Phrase No. 1: “How di bodi?” See this is easy to understand in English. Literally, “how is the body,” this is the most common greeting I’ve found in Sierra Leone, along with Phrases Nos. 2 and 3: “How di wok” (“How is work?”) and “How di morning/day/evening” (“How is the morning/day/evening”)?
These make up the bulk of the Krio that I actually speak on a daily basis, which sadly isn’t very much yet. However, once in a while I like to throw a new phrase at my coworkers and impress them. That’s where phrases Nos. 4 and 5 come in. Sometimes it’s an “I dae go na hose” (“I’m going to go to my house”) or a “hosei you dae go” (“where are you going”)?
I’m not going to say that’s all a person needs to get by in Sierra Leone, but it’ll get someone a long way. I wanted to learn more though so I borrowed a Krio Manuel from a friend and began taking notes. There I learned numerous gems like “tehnki” (“thanks”), “ohmohs” (“how much”) and “reni” (“rainy”).
Then things got really fun.
I came across my favorite Krio phrase by far: “aw de go de go.” I just love how this sounds. If you’re reading this column out loud, you just had a lot of fun. Admit it. It means “how are things?” and is a useful phrase that can be used every day with everyone.
I can also introduce myself, and provide the utmost basic information to a stranger. Although it’s rare for me to try to throw down this much Krio at once, I have tried, rather unsuccessfully, to get through it a couple times. I messed it up, but the people I was talking to still seemed to understand what I was trying to say and smiled as I gave it my best.
I started with a “kushe” (“hello”) to get the conversation started. After a greeting I was asked my name. I answered that it was David and “a kohmohn na America” (“I am from America”). My chatting companion seemed pleased and then asked me a question I didn’t understand.
But I didn’t panic. I thought I heard “wok” in the question so I shot right into the reason I was here. “A kam wok na Awoko Newspaper,” I said proudly.
Turns out, I hadn’t been asked why I was here. I wasn’t even asked about work. The gentleman I was talking to asked me how long I was here.
At least he seemed to be impressed by my pride in my employer.
Will there be a column completely in Krio before I go? It’s highly unlikely. But it’s good to know what people are trying to say to me, as well as what’s going on in the world around me. I can understand some Krio if I listen very carefully.
I also know when my coworkers are talking about me. Although, the fact that they’re looking at me and smiling while they talk also kind of helps to give it away.
Lately, I have a tendency to blend Krio and English into what I like to call “Kri-lish.” A common Kri-lish phrase is “hello, how di body?” Another good one is “Aw di wok go yesterday?” I like this because everybody can understand Kri-lish. There’s usually sufficient Krio for Sierra Leoneans to understand, and just enough English for me to get by.
Over the next two months I hope to continue to learn more and more Krio. While I doubt I’ll find a phrase cooler than “aw de go de go,” I would like to one day be able to carry whole conversations in Krio, even if it’s just a 30-second chat. I think I’m off to a good start.
A nem David ehn a de lan lili bit na Krio (“my name is David and I am learning a little bit of Krio”).
Column No. 19-My life on shuffle
My life on shuffle
By David Krueger
Sometimes my iPod just understands me.
At night when I can’t sleep, I tend to grab my music player and put it on shuffle. Now and then it plays a perfect playlist to put me right to sleep. Other nights it surprises (and startles) me by blasting some German techno that my friend put on my iPod and didn’t tell me about.
Tuesday night, was a beautiful, almost poetic blend.
The very first song featured Drake, a Canadian rapper who’s one of my favorite musical artists. I feel like I can relate to his songs, especially the following line, which I couldn’t rephrase any better if I tried:
“Homesick just when I thought I was sick of home.”
Now, I’m not really sick of home, but I was really excited for my trip. I wanted to get out and see the world, and leave my city behind for a few months. Saturday and Sunday were the first time I was really hit with homesickness, as I laid in bed and struggled to lift and drink a small bottle of water.
“Homesick” is an interesting phrase. I’d bet at least Le5,000 that it comes from somebody who was traveling abroad and wanted to go home because they got sick.
I imagine that while going on tours for months at a time, Drake occasionally gets sick. I bet it’s those times were he also gets a little homesick, even though he thought he was sick of home.
Next up on the playlist was a little rock n’ roll, with an alternative rock group called Forever the Sickest Kids. The song was perfect for two reasons.
First, the name of the song is “Keeps on Bringing Me Down,” and the chorus begins with: “why does the world as I know it, keep on bringing me down?”
This past weekend, and even up to today as I’m still not fully recovered, the world (or at least a bread and beans sandwich) definitely brought me down. It not only brought me down. It took me down, kept me down and beat me up while I was down.
Second, the very first line of the song made me smile when I heard it: “It’s a sunny day on the west coast.”
I know they’re talking about the west coast of the United States, probably California because the only other states on the west coast are Washington (where I’m from) and Oregon and trust me, there are very few sunny days in either of those states.
However, I’m currently on a west coast and on Tuesday morning/afternoon it was even sunny for about 30 minutes. Then the clouds came, along with torrential downpours, and the sun went away. But, at least for a little while, I too had a sunny day on the west coast.
Really silly things like this make me feel better. Which is why the next song assured the playlist was going to be a winner.
All of a sudden I heard one of my favorite songs by two of my favorite artists. Lil’ Wayne and the aforementioned Drake collaboration “Right Above It.”
This is why I’m sure my iPod loves me. I listen to this song a lot. Not only does it have a catchy hook and some very smart rhymes by the two hip hoppers, but it’s one of the best songs to listen to if a person ever just needs a pick-me-up or wants to feel a wave of confidence rush over them.
I needed both.
I lip-synched along with Drake and Weezy (as he’s known back home because of his unique voice) until I got to my favorite part of the song, which I sang so loud I wouldn’t be surprised if the people downstairs heard me.
Lying in bed, all tucked in for the night, bobbing my head up and down, and smiling uncontrollably I belted out: “Life is a beach, I’m just playing in the sand.”
It’s probably important to note that this was my favorite part of the song long before I got to Sierra Leone. But, now that I’m here (and have played in the sand several times) it’s definitely one of my go to songs while going to bed, getting ready in the morning or just sitting around my room writing in my journal.
To be incredibly honest, I wasn’t sure how the shuffle could get any better, but it did. Favorites like “Good Life” by OneRepublic and “No Hands” by Waka Flocka Flame helped ease me into a deep sleep. The former talking about how “this has gotta be the good life” which, for the most part, Salone has been. The latter is a good get-pumped song that reminds me of bars and clubs back home.
A few more songs played as my eyelids began to get heavier and heavier. Just when I thought it was about time to shut the iPod off, “Where We Gonna Go From Here” came on.
As the title suggests, the singer (one Mat Kearney) is unsure of where his life is going to go from the current point. If there’s any song I can relate to right now it’s this one. I don’t have any idea what’s going to happen tomorrow, let alone when I get back from Sierra Leone.
I don’t have a plan. I’m terrible at making them, and I feel like they rarely turn out how they’re supposed to. After I return to America as a college graduate I have to try to find a job. Somewhere. I could stay in Seattle, or end up somewhere across the country like New York or Miami. I really don’t know where I’m going to go from here. At all.
To call this song soft rock is an understatement. It’s so calm and soothing it could have single-handedly put me to sleep.
But it didn’t have to.
It had the help of the World’s Greatest IPod. I wonder what it’s got planned for me tonight.
By David Krueger
Sometimes my iPod just understands me.
At night when I can’t sleep, I tend to grab my music player and put it on shuffle. Now and then it plays a perfect playlist to put me right to sleep. Other nights it surprises (and startles) me by blasting some German techno that my friend put on my iPod and didn’t tell me about.
Tuesday night, was a beautiful, almost poetic blend.
The very first song featured Drake, a Canadian rapper who’s one of my favorite musical artists. I feel like I can relate to his songs, especially the following line, which I couldn’t rephrase any better if I tried:
“Homesick just when I thought I was sick of home.”
Now, I’m not really sick of home, but I was really excited for my trip. I wanted to get out and see the world, and leave my city behind for a few months. Saturday and Sunday were the first time I was really hit with homesickness, as I laid in bed and struggled to lift and drink a small bottle of water.
“Homesick” is an interesting phrase. I’d bet at least Le5,000 that it comes from somebody who was traveling abroad and wanted to go home because they got sick.
I imagine that while going on tours for months at a time, Drake occasionally gets sick. I bet it’s those times were he also gets a little homesick, even though he thought he was sick of home.
Next up on the playlist was a little rock n’ roll, with an alternative rock group called Forever the Sickest Kids. The song was perfect for two reasons.
First, the name of the song is “Keeps on Bringing Me Down,” and the chorus begins with: “why does the world as I know it, keep on bringing me down?”
This past weekend, and even up to today as I’m still not fully recovered, the world (or at least a bread and beans sandwich) definitely brought me down. It not only brought me down. It took me down, kept me down and beat me up while I was down.
Second, the very first line of the song made me smile when I heard it: “It’s a sunny day on the west coast.”
I know they’re talking about the west coast of the United States, probably California because the only other states on the west coast are Washington (where I’m from) and Oregon and trust me, there are very few sunny days in either of those states.
However, I’m currently on a west coast and on Tuesday morning/afternoon it was even sunny for about 30 minutes. Then the clouds came, along with torrential downpours, and the sun went away. But, at least for a little while, I too had a sunny day on the west coast.
Really silly things like this make me feel better. Which is why the next song assured the playlist was going to be a winner.
All of a sudden I heard one of my favorite songs by two of my favorite artists. Lil’ Wayne and the aforementioned Drake collaboration “Right Above It.”
This is why I’m sure my iPod loves me. I listen to this song a lot. Not only does it have a catchy hook and some very smart rhymes by the two hip hoppers, but it’s one of the best songs to listen to if a person ever just needs a pick-me-up or wants to feel a wave of confidence rush over them.
I needed both.
I lip-synched along with Drake and Weezy (as he’s known back home because of his unique voice) until I got to my favorite part of the song, which I sang so loud I wouldn’t be surprised if the people downstairs heard me.
Lying in bed, all tucked in for the night, bobbing my head up and down, and smiling uncontrollably I belted out: “Life is a beach, I’m just playing in the sand.”
It’s probably important to note that this was my favorite part of the song long before I got to Sierra Leone. But, now that I’m here (and have played in the sand several times) it’s definitely one of my go to songs while going to bed, getting ready in the morning or just sitting around my room writing in my journal.
To be incredibly honest, I wasn’t sure how the shuffle could get any better, but it did. Favorites like “Good Life” by OneRepublic and “No Hands” by Waka Flocka Flame helped ease me into a deep sleep. The former talking about how “this has gotta be the good life” which, for the most part, Salone has been. The latter is a good get-pumped song that reminds me of bars and clubs back home.
A few more songs played as my eyelids began to get heavier and heavier. Just when I thought it was about time to shut the iPod off, “Where We Gonna Go From Here” came on.
As the title suggests, the singer (one Mat Kearney) is unsure of where his life is going to go from the current point. If there’s any song I can relate to right now it’s this one. I don’t have any idea what’s going to happen tomorrow, let alone when I get back from Sierra Leone.
I don’t have a plan. I’m terrible at making them, and I feel like they rarely turn out how they’re supposed to. After I return to America as a college graduate I have to try to find a job. Somewhere. I could stay in Seattle, or end up somewhere across the country like New York or Miami. I really don’t know where I’m going to go from here. At all.
To call this song soft rock is an understatement. It’s so calm and soothing it could have single-handedly put me to sleep.
But it didn’t have to.
It had the help of the World’s Greatest IPod. I wonder what it’s got planned for me tonight.
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