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.
Thursday, August 4, 2011
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.
Column No. 18-Sick in Sierra Leone
Sick in Sierra Leone
By David Krueger
The last few days have been pretty tough.
I spent my weekend doing two things: being sick and sleeping.
It turns out something I ate Friday night did not agree with my stomach. And I don’t mean it just had a little disagreement. I mean it fought with my stomach like the Democrats and Republicans back home trying to come up with a solution to the United States debt crisis.
I don’t think I’ve ever been this sick in my entire life. I didn’t sleep much Friday night because I felt so sick and had to run to the bathroom about every 20 minutes. Fortunately, since Friday it seems like all I’ve done is sleep.
On Saturday I spent about 19 hours (about 80 percent of the day!) asleep. On Sunday I was awake a little bit more, but not by much. By Monday I had to get up at 8 a.m. to get ready to go to work, so I was home and asleep by four in the afternoon.
I woke up at eight in the evening to say hello to my friends and see how their days went, and then about two hours later I was asleep again for the night.
The culprit of this sickness is a simple bread and beans sandwich. At least I think that’s what it is. I ate one Friday night and hours later I was in the fetal position on my bed. The weird thing is I’ve eaten at the stand where I purchased the sandwich several times, and never gotten sick.
Well, that streak’s over. It may be awhile before I go back to that particular stand.
Thankfully, I have an incredible group of friends that helped nurse me back to health. Friday night they got me home and tucked into bed and have visited me regularly since to make sure I was still okay (or maybe checking to make sure I was still alive).
For a while, if I stood up for about 15 seconds I became tired and needed to sit down. I’m a lot better off now. I can stand up for a full 10 minutes before I get an overwhelming desire to rest.
Even now I’m still not quite back to 100 percent health wise. I’d say we’re at about 89 percent. I still have a sore throat (which isn’t that surprising because it took a lot of abuse Friday night) which makes eating difficult and not that much fun.
As a result, I’m usually pretty tired and weak. By the time I get home from work all I want to do is sleep. It’s 12:30 p.m. on Tuesday right now as I write this and I’m already eager to take a nap, even though I just woke up four hours ago.
I thought that when I got sick during the first week of my trip that was as bad as it would get. Boy was I wrong. I know that I have to be careful about what I eat and drink and I feel like I have been. I’ve gone to places that have been verified by others as hygienic and healthy. It had all been going so well!
Friday night eliminated my absolute confidence in my stomach’s ability to adapt to the food here. I had been eating and enjoying everything, and began to feel invincible. I think I have a strong stomach so I was apprehensive, but not too worried about adapting to food here.
Perhaps I should have been.
Or maybe I’m just thinking too much about this one incident and letting it affect me too much. Forgive me if that’s the case, but I’ve had a lot of time laying around in bed to think about it.
I thought about a lot of things while lying around. I analyzed the amount of clean socks that I have remaining for the week (approximately enough to get through Wednesday). I finally remembered the pillow I brought from home, which I’m still convinced is why I slept most of Saturday away. Most of all, I tried to remember a time when I wasn’t at war with my stomach.
A weekend in bed also gave me time to catch up with my journal. Looking back over last weekend’s entry, it’s apparent I was not in a good mood while writing. My favorite sentence that I wrote is: “I don’t think I’ve smiled in 24 hours.” That makes me smile now.
The important thing is I got through it. I made it through the woods (taking several long naps along the way) and into the clear…almost.
Then I called my mother.
I told her about how sick I got, and how while I was stuck in bed all weekend I got a little homesick for the first time. I missed being sick in my own, familiar bed. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not going to up and leave Sierra Leone anytime soon, but when you’re unable to hear your music over the gurgling of your stomach, it makes you miss home a little bit.
After I told her that, I swear she sounded a little happy. It took me quite a while to get homesick, and I think my mom was worried it might never happen. Even if it occurred because of illness, I think it was nice for her to hear that I missed home.
My mom then went on Facebook and alerted the world that I had “intestinal issues,” prompting many Facebook messages, e-mails and even a phone call from one of my best friends who’s working in Cambodia through the same program that sent me here to Freetown.
I’ve since assured everyone that I’m okay, and very soon I will be as good as new. I’m back to being hyper-careful about what I eat, and will do my best to make sure I remain healthy and happy during my time in Salone.
Now I think it’s time to take another nap.
By David Krueger
The last few days have been pretty tough.
I spent my weekend doing two things: being sick and sleeping.
It turns out something I ate Friday night did not agree with my stomach. And I don’t mean it just had a little disagreement. I mean it fought with my stomach like the Democrats and Republicans back home trying to come up with a solution to the United States debt crisis.
I don’t think I’ve ever been this sick in my entire life. I didn’t sleep much Friday night because I felt so sick and had to run to the bathroom about every 20 minutes. Fortunately, since Friday it seems like all I’ve done is sleep.
On Saturday I spent about 19 hours (about 80 percent of the day!) asleep. On Sunday I was awake a little bit more, but not by much. By Monday I had to get up at 8 a.m. to get ready to go to work, so I was home and asleep by four in the afternoon.
I woke up at eight in the evening to say hello to my friends and see how their days went, and then about two hours later I was asleep again for the night.
The culprit of this sickness is a simple bread and beans sandwich. At least I think that’s what it is. I ate one Friday night and hours later I was in the fetal position on my bed. The weird thing is I’ve eaten at the stand where I purchased the sandwich several times, and never gotten sick.
Well, that streak’s over. It may be awhile before I go back to that particular stand.
Thankfully, I have an incredible group of friends that helped nurse me back to health. Friday night they got me home and tucked into bed and have visited me regularly since to make sure I was still okay (or maybe checking to make sure I was still alive).
For a while, if I stood up for about 15 seconds I became tired and needed to sit down. I’m a lot better off now. I can stand up for a full 10 minutes before I get an overwhelming desire to rest.
Even now I’m still not quite back to 100 percent health wise. I’d say we’re at about 89 percent. I still have a sore throat (which isn’t that surprising because it took a lot of abuse Friday night) which makes eating difficult and not that much fun.
As a result, I’m usually pretty tired and weak. By the time I get home from work all I want to do is sleep. It’s 12:30 p.m. on Tuesday right now as I write this and I’m already eager to take a nap, even though I just woke up four hours ago.
I thought that when I got sick during the first week of my trip that was as bad as it would get. Boy was I wrong. I know that I have to be careful about what I eat and drink and I feel like I have been. I’ve gone to places that have been verified by others as hygienic and healthy. It had all been going so well!
Friday night eliminated my absolute confidence in my stomach’s ability to adapt to the food here. I had been eating and enjoying everything, and began to feel invincible. I think I have a strong stomach so I was apprehensive, but not too worried about adapting to food here.
Perhaps I should have been.
Or maybe I’m just thinking too much about this one incident and letting it affect me too much. Forgive me if that’s the case, but I’ve had a lot of time laying around in bed to think about it.
I thought about a lot of things while lying around. I analyzed the amount of clean socks that I have remaining for the week (approximately enough to get through Wednesday). I finally remembered the pillow I brought from home, which I’m still convinced is why I slept most of Saturday away. Most of all, I tried to remember a time when I wasn’t at war with my stomach.
A weekend in bed also gave me time to catch up with my journal. Looking back over last weekend’s entry, it’s apparent I was not in a good mood while writing. My favorite sentence that I wrote is: “I don’t think I’ve smiled in 24 hours.” That makes me smile now.
The important thing is I got through it. I made it through the woods (taking several long naps along the way) and into the clear…almost.
Then I called my mother.
I told her about how sick I got, and how while I was stuck in bed all weekend I got a little homesick for the first time. I missed being sick in my own, familiar bed. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not going to up and leave Sierra Leone anytime soon, but when you’re unable to hear your music over the gurgling of your stomach, it makes you miss home a little bit.
After I told her that, I swear she sounded a little happy. It took me quite a while to get homesick, and I think my mom was worried it might never happen. Even if it occurred because of illness, I think it was nice for her to hear that I missed home.
My mom then went on Facebook and alerted the world that I had “intestinal issues,” prompting many Facebook messages, e-mails and even a phone call from one of my best friends who’s working in Cambodia through the same program that sent me here to Freetown.
I’ve since assured everyone that I’m okay, and very soon I will be as good as new. I’m back to being hyper-careful about what I eat, and will do my best to make sure I remain healthy and happy during my time in Salone.
Now I think it’s time to take another nap.
Column No. 17-Fighting Corruption
Fighting corruption
By David Krueger
There are a lot of differences between Americans and Sierra Leoneans. For example, the sport we call football is much different than the sport you call football.
However, I believe there is one thing that we can all agree on: corruption is bad.
A few people might argue against that statement. That’s because they are corrupt. For the rest of us, corruption is seen as what it is, a hindrance to a free flowing democracy.
Every country in the world has rules and laws that everybody is expected to live by, especially government and elected officials. When you are singled out by your fellow citizens and chosen to represent them, it is a huge responsibility that I feel most people don’t take lightly.
Unfortunately, some do.
On Friday I attended the Anti-Corruption Commission’s Second Quarter Update, and heard the fervent Commissioner, Joseph Kamara, speak.
“When we fight corruption, we are passionate about it,” Kamara said.
His actions backed up his words. The Anti-Corruption Commission (ACC) recently completed a tour of Sierra Leone where it talked to over 150 chiefs to see how corruption has impacted them. With offices in Bo, Kenema and Kambia, the ACC is hoping to start getting a handle on the problem across the nation.
Kamara blamed corruption for electricity, water and education problems around the country. From what it sounds like, it even haunts him at night.
“I sleep and dream about corruption,” Kamara said. “All the books I’m reading are about corruption.”
That’s the dedication we need from all the leaders.
The ardent Commissioner talked with the media for at least an extra half an hour after his statement on Friday, calmly answering questions and recounting stories that underscore the need for the group he’s in charge of.
It was clear early on in the program, what Kamara needs to be successful: the general public. He pleads with Sierra Leoneans that see something unlawful or unethical to report it. That’s essentially what the ACC is here for.
A culture of corruption will never cease if those that live in it don’t take a stand.
While America has its faults, that’s one thing we’re definitely good at: complaining. If we don’t like the way something is run, we don’t hesitate to express our opinions (sometimes too much so). That’s not to say we don’t have corruption in America. In fact, there’s probably a lot more than I’d like to admit (or even know about).
A common view in the United States is that every politician is “crooked and corrupt.” And they don’t help themselves out with this view. It seems like at least once a month a high-ranking government official is accused of embezzling money or having an affair or texting pictures of himself in his underwear to girls he met on the internet (it happens, I know it’s sad).
I don’t think we have anything like the Anti-Corruption Commission back home. We sure could use one. We do have ethics oversight committees for state and federal government, but there’s still a lot of wiggle room for politicians to get away with a lot.
Which they do. They do everywhere. Committees like the ACC probably aren’t going to stop corruption completely, but they can make a huge difference in the war. They can reduce the number of corrupt officials, and potentially scare other officials from engaging in corrupt behavior. For that reason we may never know the true impact of the ACC.
Nobody likes talking about this. I don’t really like talking about this. I’d rather talk about the awesome Africana shirt I got to wear during the meeting on Friday. But corruption is what’s been on my mind all day. It’s not a fun topic, but it’s one that should be discussed in order for a healthy democracy.
“It makes a lot of people uncomfortable,” Kamara said of corruption.
It’s true. On Friday I was uncomfortable, and not just because I was sitting in the same hard, plastic chair for two hours. It’s an unnerving (and downright scary) thought to think about corrupt officials, and how they seem to disregard the rules they expect all of us to follow with ease.
But stealing from a country and its citizens is still stealing. It’s against the law, and is even one of the Ten Commandments. In order for Salone to continue to grow as a country, the corruption needs to be reduced drastically.
For the first month I’ve been here that’s been a dominant theme in the newspapers I’ve read, and a well-discussed topic around the office and on the streets. People realize this can’t go on, and that changes need to be made. They’re aware it’s a huge problem.
And now they know it’s even keeping people, like Mr. Kamara, awake at night.
By David Krueger
There are a lot of differences between Americans and Sierra Leoneans. For example, the sport we call football is much different than the sport you call football.
However, I believe there is one thing that we can all agree on: corruption is bad.
A few people might argue against that statement. That’s because they are corrupt. For the rest of us, corruption is seen as what it is, a hindrance to a free flowing democracy.
Every country in the world has rules and laws that everybody is expected to live by, especially government and elected officials. When you are singled out by your fellow citizens and chosen to represent them, it is a huge responsibility that I feel most people don’t take lightly.
Unfortunately, some do.
On Friday I attended the Anti-Corruption Commission’s Second Quarter Update, and heard the fervent Commissioner, Joseph Kamara, speak.
“When we fight corruption, we are passionate about it,” Kamara said.
His actions backed up his words. The Anti-Corruption Commission (ACC) recently completed a tour of Sierra Leone where it talked to over 150 chiefs to see how corruption has impacted them. With offices in Bo, Kenema and Kambia, the ACC is hoping to start getting a handle on the problem across the nation.
Kamara blamed corruption for electricity, water and education problems around the country. From what it sounds like, it even haunts him at night.
“I sleep and dream about corruption,” Kamara said. “All the books I’m reading are about corruption.”
That’s the dedication we need from all the leaders.
The ardent Commissioner talked with the media for at least an extra half an hour after his statement on Friday, calmly answering questions and recounting stories that underscore the need for the group he’s in charge of.
It was clear early on in the program, what Kamara needs to be successful: the general public. He pleads with Sierra Leoneans that see something unlawful or unethical to report it. That’s essentially what the ACC is here for.
A culture of corruption will never cease if those that live in it don’t take a stand.
While America has its faults, that’s one thing we’re definitely good at: complaining. If we don’t like the way something is run, we don’t hesitate to express our opinions (sometimes too much so). That’s not to say we don’t have corruption in America. In fact, there’s probably a lot more than I’d like to admit (or even know about).
A common view in the United States is that every politician is “crooked and corrupt.” And they don’t help themselves out with this view. It seems like at least once a month a high-ranking government official is accused of embezzling money or having an affair or texting pictures of himself in his underwear to girls he met on the internet (it happens, I know it’s sad).
I don’t think we have anything like the Anti-Corruption Commission back home. We sure could use one. We do have ethics oversight committees for state and federal government, but there’s still a lot of wiggle room for politicians to get away with a lot.
Which they do. They do everywhere. Committees like the ACC probably aren’t going to stop corruption completely, but they can make a huge difference in the war. They can reduce the number of corrupt officials, and potentially scare other officials from engaging in corrupt behavior. For that reason we may never know the true impact of the ACC.
Nobody likes talking about this. I don’t really like talking about this. I’d rather talk about the awesome Africana shirt I got to wear during the meeting on Friday. But corruption is what’s been on my mind all day. It’s not a fun topic, but it’s one that should be discussed in order for a healthy democracy.
“It makes a lot of people uncomfortable,” Kamara said of corruption.
It’s true. On Friday I was uncomfortable, and not just because I was sitting in the same hard, plastic chair for two hours. It’s an unnerving (and downright scary) thought to think about corrupt officials, and how they seem to disregard the rules they expect all of us to follow with ease.
But stealing from a country and its citizens is still stealing. It’s against the law, and is even one of the Ten Commandments. In order for Salone to continue to grow as a country, the corruption needs to be reduced drastically.
For the first month I’ve been here that’s been a dominant theme in the newspapers I’ve read, and a well-discussed topic around the office and on the streets. People realize this can’t go on, and that changes need to be made. They’re aware it’s a huge problem.
And now they know it’s even keeping people, like Mr. Kamara, awake at night.
Column No. 16-Bargaining my way through Sierra Leone
Bargaining my way through Sierra Leone
By David Krueger
Let’s make a deal.
The popular American phrase seems to be much more appropriate here in Sierra Leone. While bargaining is not out of the question in the United States, it is the way of life here, and it takes some getting used to.
There are some goods with a fixed price. The bread and cheese for instance that I buy around lunchtime costs the exact same amount of Leones every day. However, many more goods and services have prices that fluctuate.
Thankfully, I have friends at work that go around with me whenever I go to purchase something. They’ve expressed concern that I will get ripped off because I’m a foreigner, and vendors will (incorrectly) assume I have a lot of money.
My friends are expert negotiators. It’s fun to watch the brokering back and forth. From what I’ve witnessed and gathered talking to my friends, here’s how the exchange occurs.
The customer arrives at the stand and looks over the merchandise. If he or she so much as touches anything, the negotiation begins, even if they had no intention of it occurring so quickly. The seller begins with a fairly high price, hoping that maybe the person either doesn’t know how to negotiate or is in too big of a hurry to have time.
Quickly, the buyer refutes that price, and offers one of its own. This is where the first problem for me occurs.
I don’t know how much most goods cost. I’m pretty sure a single mango shouldn’t cost Le10,000, but I’m also pretty sure it costs more than Le1,000. Somewhere in between lies the correct cost of the mango, and I’m a little embarrassed to say I don’t know it yet.
Other things that I buy for the first time, such as my beautiful Sierra Leone football jersey, really have me lost. Fortunately, friends can help. Then, when I go to buy other items, like an authentic African shirt to wear to work today, I feel more confident in my ability to talk to the shopkeepers. Plus, I like to think wearing the local football jersey helps lower the prices.
So, the shopper lays down his or her offer, and the store owner, realizing that this is not the customer’s first time dealing with this particular situation, lowers the price a little bit. If the consumer is happy, the exchange is complete. Although, usually it lasts a little bit longer as the two sides discuss back and forth trying to land somewhere in the middle.
This is where the second problem comes in. I don’t speak Krio. I’m trying very hard (you’ll see in a future column), and I can say “ohmohs” to inquire about the cost of something, but I don’t yet know the Krio for “I’m sorry, that seems very expensive. Is there any way we can lower the price a little bit?”
Finally, a price is agreed upon and money is exchanged. In my experience, the final cost is usually closer to the buyer’s initial goal than the seller’s. But not always. Sometimes they have a price they’re not willing to go below, and you just have to walk away, which, it turns out, is another useful bargaining tool.
As the would-be purchaser begins to turn, the vendor sees a sale walking away with it. The price mysteriously takes a drastic tumble, and a deal is completed.
Back home when you go buy something it has a price tag attached to it. You don’t even have to ask how much something costs. I’m not sure which is better or worse, but personally I like bargaining (or at least I will when I take care of those two glaring issues). There’s a feeling after a successful accord is made that I think is great for everybody.
One person walks away with something they didn’t have before, at a price at or near what they were willing to pay for it. They feel a sense of accomplishment because they were able to talk the retailer down.
On the flip side, the seller is still satisfied because they made a sale, and probably sold the good near what they were actually hoping to get for the product. They make money, and build a relationship with the consumer so that they may come back again the next time they need to make another purchase.
It’s not that I’m uncomfortable negotiating a price, I just don’t know how to do it. Those two major problems prevent me from feeling confident in my ability to bargain. The longer I stay here, the more I’ll learn about prices, and the better I’ll feel about discussing those prices at local stands.
Despite the unease, I’ve still been able to haggle for everything from pants to a room to sleep in. Just imagine the bargaining power I’ll have by the end of my trip!
It’s an interesting system. It’s different from what I’m used to, but I like how it works. I’m not an economist, so I don’t know if this is good or bad. However, I do know that it’s the way my life is going to be for the next two months, and I wouldn’t trade that for anything.
By David Krueger
Let’s make a deal.
The popular American phrase seems to be much more appropriate here in Sierra Leone. While bargaining is not out of the question in the United States, it is the way of life here, and it takes some getting used to.
There are some goods with a fixed price. The bread and cheese for instance that I buy around lunchtime costs the exact same amount of Leones every day. However, many more goods and services have prices that fluctuate.
Thankfully, I have friends at work that go around with me whenever I go to purchase something. They’ve expressed concern that I will get ripped off because I’m a foreigner, and vendors will (incorrectly) assume I have a lot of money.
My friends are expert negotiators. It’s fun to watch the brokering back and forth. From what I’ve witnessed and gathered talking to my friends, here’s how the exchange occurs.
The customer arrives at the stand and looks over the merchandise. If he or she so much as touches anything, the negotiation begins, even if they had no intention of it occurring so quickly. The seller begins with a fairly high price, hoping that maybe the person either doesn’t know how to negotiate or is in too big of a hurry to have time.
Quickly, the buyer refutes that price, and offers one of its own. This is where the first problem for me occurs.
I don’t know how much most goods cost. I’m pretty sure a single mango shouldn’t cost Le10,000, but I’m also pretty sure it costs more than Le1,000. Somewhere in between lies the correct cost of the mango, and I’m a little embarrassed to say I don’t know it yet.
Other things that I buy for the first time, such as my beautiful Sierra Leone football jersey, really have me lost. Fortunately, friends can help. Then, when I go to buy other items, like an authentic African shirt to wear to work today, I feel more confident in my ability to talk to the shopkeepers. Plus, I like to think wearing the local football jersey helps lower the prices.
So, the shopper lays down his or her offer, and the store owner, realizing that this is not the customer’s first time dealing with this particular situation, lowers the price a little bit. If the consumer is happy, the exchange is complete. Although, usually it lasts a little bit longer as the two sides discuss back and forth trying to land somewhere in the middle.
This is where the second problem comes in. I don’t speak Krio. I’m trying very hard (you’ll see in a future column), and I can say “ohmohs” to inquire about the cost of something, but I don’t yet know the Krio for “I’m sorry, that seems very expensive. Is there any way we can lower the price a little bit?”
Finally, a price is agreed upon and money is exchanged. In my experience, the final cost is usually closer to the buyer’s initial goal than the seller’s. But not always. Sometimes they have a price they’re not willing to go below, and you just have to walk away, which, it turns out, is another useful bargaining tool.
As the would-be purchaser begins to turn, the vendor sees a sale walking away with it. The price mysteriously takes a drastic tumble, and a deal is completed.
Back home when you go buy something it has a price tag attached to it. You don’t even have to ask how much something costs. I’m not sure which is better or worse, but personally I like bargaining (or at least I will when I take care of those two glaring issues). There’s a feeling after a successful accord is made that I think is great for everybody.
One person walks away with something they didn’t have before, at a price at or near what they were willing to pay for it. They feel a sense of accomplishment because they were able to talk the retailer down.
On the flip side, the seller is still satisfied because they made a sale, and probably sold the good near what they were actually hoping to get for the product. They make money, and build a relationship with the consumer so that they may come back again the next time they need to make another purchase.
It’s not that I’m uncomfortable negotiating a price, I just don’t know how to do it. Those two major problems prevent me from feeling confident in my ability to bargain. The longer I stay here, the more I’ll learn about prices, and the better I’ll feel about discussing those prices at local stands.
Despite the unease, I’ve still been able to haggle for everything from pants to a room to sleep in. Just imagine the bargaining power I’ll have by the end of my trip!
It’s an interesting system. It’s different from what I’m used to, but I like how it works. I’m not an economist, so I don’t know if this is good or bad. However, I do know that it’s the way my life is going to be for the next two months, and I wouldn’t trade that for anything.
Column No. 15-Getting Recognized
Getting recognized
By David Krueger
One of the coolest parts about being in Sierra Leone is that I’ve gotten to the point where when I walk around Freetown people are starting to recognize me as “Dave” from Awoko Newspaper.
It’s pretty cool.
Personally, there’s no bigger honor for me as a journalist than somebody coming up to me to say they read and enjoyed something I wrote. That’s why I write. For all you guys.
I do a lot of writing while I’m here. I have columns and stories for Awoko which are the main reasons I’m here. Along with that I have a blog for my school, friends and family to look at to see what I’m doing in Salone.
I love reading and hearing comments on both of those to see what people think, even if they disagree. I realize that not everybody will always agree with me, or see the world the same way I do. That’s fine. It doesn’t mean either one of us is wrong (although, it is very possible I could be), and more often than not it’s the basis for a great discussion.
It’s probably important to note that I don’t just write for other people, although I love doing that and it’s what I want to do for a living. I also have a journal, where I get to write just for myself. I think it’s important to do this even in everyday life. It’s nice to write down your experiences and get certain things off your chest.
Plus, it allows me to think and reflect about experiences like the break-in last week, and use some choice language that isn’t exactly newspaper appropriate.
The first time I was recognized actually came in Kambia. While I was eating dinner at Kambia Africana Village, an Irish woman named Audrey came up and introduced herself to me. After I said my name and that I’m staying in Freetown, she asked if I happened to have a column in a newspaper there.
I smiled and shook my head. She informed me that she had just read my column that morning and was entertained by it. It was one of the happiest moments for me in Sierra Leone.
Audrey if you’re still reading, thank you!
Later that night two others at the guesthouse mentioned they had read about the time I went out to Atlantic Crossing and Aces and I finally felt like I belonged in Africa, which I wasn’t sure I ever would.
See, I kind of stick out while walking down the street. There are a few key attributes that separate me from the locals. I don’t speak Krio (yet). I usually forget my umbrella when it rains. And my skin is quite a bit lighter than most.
However, when I can talk to people about something that happened here, and share my side of an event, I feel a little bit like I belong. The conversations usually end with a “well, that’s Africa” or “only in Sierra Leone,” but I still have a better understanding of the country where I’ll reside until September 22nd.
I’m far from having life figured out here, but I’ll continue to work at it through these columns and talking to people.
Another cool occurrence was at a meeting for Canon that was held at the TAIA Resort last week. I was eager to meet the Ambassador to the United States, Michael Owen, and was eventually introduced. It turns out he’s been known to read my columns too, and knew all about my trip to Kambia.
It was incredibly exciting to know that someone I admire actually takes the time to read what I write and enjoys what I have to say.
Mr. Ambassador if you’re still reading, thank you!
Before this column is done, and everybody reading thinks “wow, Dave’s getting really cocky,” I want to personally guarantee that will never be the case. I tend to believe in balance. For every person who likes and agrees with what I write, there’s probably another who thinks I’m wrong.
I don’t write because I want to be famous and known all over (although I’m starting to think that would be kind of cool if it happened). Actually, I got in to journalism because I wanted to make a difference in the world.
I didn’t think I’d make it through law school, so journalism seemed like the next best way to go. I want to help people, by telling stories and raising awareness of issues that people might not normally know about.
In Sierra Leone I want to connect with the people and culture. These columns are about my moments in Salone, and what it’s like to be an American welcomed onto another continent. I get to talk all about what I think and how I feel, and, in return, I love to hear about what others think and how they feel.
From the workers at the Total fueling station by the Awoko office, to visitors who talk to me at the YMCA, it’s been a pleasure talking with each and every person I’ve met in Sierra Leone, and I look forward to two more months of meeting great people.
By David Krueger
One of the coolest parts about being in Sierra Leone is that I’ve gotten to the point where when I walk around Freetown people are starting to recognize me as “Dave” from Awoko Newspaper.
It’s pretty cool.
Personally, there’s no bigger honor for me as a journalist than somebody coming up to me to say they read and enjoyed something I wrote. That’s why I write. For all you guys.
I do a lot of writing while I’m here. I have columns and stories for Awoko which are the main reasons I’m here. Along with that I have a blog for my school, friends and family to look at to see what I’m doing in Salone.
I love reading and hearing comments on both of those to see what people think, even if they disagree. I realize that not everybody will always agree with me, or see the world the same way I do. That’s fine. It doesn’t mean either one of us is wrong (although, it is very possible I could be), and more often than not it’s the basis for a great discussion.
It’s probably important to note that I don’t just write for other people, although I love doing that and it’s what I want to do for a living. I also have a journal, where I get to write just for myself. I think it’s important to do this even in everyday life. It’s nice to write down your experiences and get certain things off your chest.
Plus, it allows me to think and reflect about experiences like the break-in last week, and use some choice language that isn’t exactly newspaper appropriate.
The first time I was recognized actually came in Kambia. While I was eating dinner at Kambia Africana Village, an Irish woman named Audrey came up and introduced herself to me. After I said my name and that I’m staying in Freetown, she asked if I happened to have a column in a newspaper there.
I smiled and shook my head. She informed me that she had just read my column that morning and was entertained by it. It was one of the happiest moments for me in Sierra Leone.
Audrey if you’re still reading, thank you!
Later that night two others at the guesthouse mentioned they had read about the time I went out to Atlantic Crossing and Aces and I finally felt like I belonged in Africa, which I wasn’t sure I ever would.
See, I kind of stick out while walking down the street. There are a few key attributes that separate me from the locals. I don’t speak Krio (yet). I usually forget my umbrella when it rains. And my skin is quite a bit lighter than most.
However, when I can talk to people about something that happened here, and share my side of an event, I feel a little bit like I belong. The conversations usually end with a “well, that’s Africa” or “only in Sierra Leone,” but I still have a better understanding of the country where I’ll reside until September 22nd.
I’m far from having life figured out here, but I’ll continue to work at it through these columns and talking to people.
Another cool occurrence was at a meeting for Canon that was held at the TAIA Resort last week. I was eager to meet the Ambassador to the United States, Michael Owen, and was eventually introduced. It turns out he’s been known to read my columns too, and knew all about my trip to Kambia.
It was incredibly exciting to know that someone I admire actually takes the time to read what I write and enjoys what I have to say.
Mr. Ambassador if you’re still reading, thank you!
Before this column is done, and everybody reading thinks “wow, Dave’s getting really cocky,” I want to personally guarantee that will never be the case. I tend to believe in balance. For every person who likes and agrees with what I write, there’s probably another who thinks I’m wrong.
I don’t write because I want to be famous and known all over (although I’m starting to think that would be kind of cool if it happened). Actually, I got in to journalism because I wanted to make a difference in the world.
I didn’t think I’d make it through law school, so journalism seemed like the next best way to go. I want to help people, by telling stories and raising awareness of issues that people might not normally know about.
In Sierra Leone I want to connect with the people and culture. These columns are about my moments in Salone, and what it’s like to be an American welcomed onto another continent. I get to talk all about what I think and how I feel, and, in return, I love to hear about what others think and how they feel.
From the workers at the Total fueling station by the Awoko office, to visitors who talk to me at the YMCA, it’s been a pleasure talking with each and every person I’ve met in Sierra Leone, and I look forward to two more months of meeting great people.
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