Monday, August 22, 2011
Life and Death
On Thursday my biggest problem in Sierra Leone was trying to decide whether or not to give up on the “goatee” I’ve spent the last two weeks of my life working on. I don’t think it counts as a real goatee. I don’t think it counts as anything.
On Friday I would have given my “goatee” or anything else I have to go back to the way things were on Thursday. I woke up to a text message from one friend that said the father of another one of our friends had passed away.
It seems important to point out that the friend who texted me was also supposed to celebrate her birthday that evening.
I felt really weird. And really bad. David is a local Sierra Leonean who is good friends with Mohamed, who works at the YMCA. He’s become close friends to numerous people staying there, including me. So when we found out what happened, we tried to do all we could.
One person stayed home from work to be with David. Another rearranged her birthday so that we could all just be together that night. I did the only thing I could think of to help: I went to the supermarket and bought whisky.
Sometimes, you just need a drink. This seemed like one of these times. Plus, as an American, I feel like while abroad it’s my job to bring whisky to any monumental occasion, good or bad.
That night we all hung out at the YMCA, drank whisky, listened to music and pretended like it was any other Friday night. We were all thinking about the same thing, but didn’t say it. Eventually, the music (I’m going to choose to account the rest of the night to that…but in all honesty it was probably the whisky) led us down the street to Krio Wendy’s, our go-to bar.
We danced and laughed and had a legitimately good night.
I never met Mr. Yarjah, but from all accounts he was a good father who loved David and his siblings. I don’t know what he died from, but it sounds like he had been sick for a while.
I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now. Obviously, I’m here if David needs anything, but I’m not sure about the rules here. Can I go to the funeral? How can I help? Is it okay to write a column about this? The last one I’m not sure about, so that’s why I’m sticking to the safety and security of a blog post. Besides, I think like two and a half people read this anyway (the half is me…I don’t really proofread…this is all from the heart).
I also really had a strong desire to talk to my parents after this, but was able to corral my nervousness until the usual Sunday night chats. My No. 1 concern here is that something will happen to a loved one back home. I worry more about that than malaria, break-ins, food poisoning or anything else.
I worry about it while back home in the U.S. too. It’s definitely my No. 1 concern there as well. But here the distance just seems to amplify the feeling.
For now, I’m going to continue to help my friend as best I can, whether it’s with a column about his father, having someone to talk to, or even another bottle of whisky (it’s pretty cheap here), all the while praying every night that everybody back home stays safe and healthy.
Right now it’s all about that. I’ll worry about my “goatee” later.
Column No. 28 - My Journal
My Journal
By David Krueger
It probably won’t surprise anybody that, being a journalist, I like to write.
My favorite writing is this, my columns for Awoko. I like writing for an audience. For me, it’s really cool to think that people actually take time out of their busy days to read this. Believe me, I appreciate that more than you can imagine.
However, I feel like it’s also important to write for myself. Before I left the United States I bought a journal to write in while I was here. It was highly recommended that we have something to write in by my university. They’re never going to read it, but they still think it’s healthy to get your thoughts out on paper.
I agree.
Two weeks ago I talked about my friends, last week I talked about my coworkers so today I’m going to talk about something else that’s helping me out greatly in Salone. My journal is an invaluable tool to keep me sane and relaxed.
It allows me an opportunity to dig deeper into my experience here. Often times after I write a column I re-read it and write about it in my journal.
Other times the opposite happens. I’ll write in my journal a little bit and come up with an idea for a column. That’s exactly what happened about an hour ago that inspired this column.
My journal kind of accounts for a behind-the-scenes look at my trip to Sierra Leone. The fact that nobody else gets to read it makes it safe for me to complain about something.
It allows me to write things down that I can’t say to anyone. Every once in a while I have a less than spectacular day. It’s nice to be able to vent about what angers me, and not have anybody tell me that I’m wrong.
Other times I write about stuff that, quite frankly, nobody else cares about. Sometimes I don’t even care about it, but feel like I should include it in the documentation of my trip. Years from now I’ll go back and read my journal, and relive my trip here.
I’ll get to revisit the Port Loko Hospital and the Charlotte Waterfall. I’ll smile as I read about my friends and coworkers while visualizing their faces again in my mind.
From January to March 2010 I studied abroad in Rome, Italy. I had a journal there as well. It was one of the first things I purchased when I arrived. It has the Coliseum on it. I always thought that was really cool.
While packing for Freetown I found that journal and went back and looked through it. It was pretty funny. I remembered exactly how I felt and where I was when I wrote each entry.
I also included artifacts from my trip, like my entry ticket to the Coliseum, a receipt from a meal in Prague and a flyer for the hostel I stayed at in Budapest.
As cool as it was I noticed one glaring fact about my journal: I didn’t write in it very much. Maybe once a week, if I was lucky. There were a lot more entries at first, then they tailed off toward the end of the trip.
Perhaps I was adjusted to life in Rome, or maybe I just didn’t have time to write. Either way, after I saw this I made a goal for my trip to Sierra Leone: actually write in my journal.
I figured since I was going to be here for 84 days, I would like to have 84 pages full by the time I arrive back home. It didn’t seem like that much. I just need to average a page a day. Or three pages every three days. It seemed reasonable.
At the halfway point of my trip (42 days) I had 36 pages written. I was impressed that it was that high, because I didn’t feel like I had been particularly good about writing in my journal. That night I went on a writing tear.
For an hour I transcribed the details of my life. I wrote about it being the midpoint of my trip and reflected on my first couple days and how far I like to think I’ve come since then. I talked about my friends at the YMCA and coworkers and how awesome they both are (that comes up a lot).
Finally, I wrapped up the epic seven-page entry talking about how I have no idea what my life will be like when I get home, as well as a few life lessons I’ve learned here in Africa. Like Rule No. 1, which is never look up. Ever. There’s always a spider there waiting for you. And it’s usually pretty big.
After that entry I was on page 43. I was one page ahead! I got really excited and pleased with myself, thinking that 41 more pages in 42 days would be a piece of cake.
That was on Thursday, 11th August. Today (Friday, 19th August) is the first I’ve written in my journal since then. I’m not going to meet my goal if weeks go by between entries.
So I’m going to re-rededicate myself to writing in my journal. And part of this column is to keep me accountable. If you see me on the streets of Freetown, please say hello, and then ask me when the last time I wrote in my journal was.
I always carry my journal around in my backpack with me. It’s all black, and features the logo for the Seattle Mariners, a professional baseball team from my hometown. The Mariners are one of my favorite sports teams in the world, and my dream job is to cover a baseball team (like the Mariners) for a news outlet. In fact, I’ve even written about that in my Seattle Mariners journal.
I don’t know what the rest of my trip to Sierra Leone will bring for me, but I know I’ll be documenting it regularly in my journal. I’ll never, ever forget this trip, or the things that have happened to me along the way, unless I fall and hit my head and forget who I am, where I’m from and what I’ve done.
I sincerely hope that day never comes, but if it does at least my journal will make sure I can remember my time in Salone.
By David Krueger
It probably won’t surprise anybody that, being a journalist, I like to write.
My favorite writing is this, my columns for Awoko. I like writing for an audience. For me, it’s really cool to think that people actually take time out of their busy days to read this. Believe me, I appreciate that more than you can imagine.
However, I feel like it’s also important to write for myself. Before I left the United States I bought a journal to write in while I was here. It was highly recommended that we have something to write in by my university. They’re never going to read it, but they still think it’s healthy to get your thoughts out on paper.
I agree.
Two weeks ago I talked about my friends, last week I talked about my coworkers so today I’m going to talk about something else that’s helping me out greatly in Salone. My journal is an invaluable tool to keep me sane and relaxed.
It allows me an opportunity to dig deeper into my experience here. Often times after I write a column I re-read it and write about it in my journal.
Other times the opposite happens. I’ll write in my journal a little bit and come up with an idea for a column. That’s exactly what happened about an hour ago that inspired this column.
My journal kind of accounts for a behind-the-scenes look at my trip to Sierra Leone. The fact that nobody else gets to read it makes it safe for me to complain about something.
It allows me to write things down that I can’t say to anyone. Every once in a while I have a less than spectacular day. It’s nice to be able to vent about what angers me, and not have anybody tell me that I’m wrong.
Other times I write about stuff that, quite frankly, nobody else cares about. Sometimes I don’t even care about it, but feel like I should include it in the documentation of my trip. Years from now I’ll go back and read my journal, and relive my trip here.
I’ll get to revisit the Port Loko Hospital and the Charlotte Waterfall. I’ll smile as I read about my friends and coworkers while visualizing their faces again in my mind.
From January to March 2010 I studied abroad in Rome, Italy. I had a journal there as well. It was one of the first things I purchased when I arrived. It has the Coliseum on it. I always thought that was really cool.
While packing for Freetown I found that journal and went back and looked through it. It was pretty funny. I remembered exactly how I felt and where I was when I wrote each entry.
I also included artifacts from my trip, like my entry ticket to the Coliseum, a receipt from a meal in Prague and a flyer for the hostel I stayed at in Budapest.
As cool as it was I noticed one glaring fact about my journal: I didn’t write in it very much. Maybe once a week, if I was lucky. There were a lot more entries at first, then they tailed off toward the end of the trip.
Perhaps I was adjusted to life in Rome, or maybe I just didn’t have time to write. Either way, after I saw this I made a goal for my trip to Sierra Leone: actually write in my journal.
I figured since I was going to be here for 84 days, I would like to have 84 pages full by the time I arrive back home. It didn’t seem like that much. I just need to average a page a day. Or three pages every three days. It seemed reasonable.
At the halfway point of my trip (42 days) I had 36 pages written. I was impressed that it was that high, because I didn’t feel like I had been particularly good about writing in my journal. That night I went on a writing tear.
For an hour I transcribed the details of my life. I wrote about it being the midpoint of my trip and reflected on my first couple days and how far I like to think I’ve come since then. I talked about my friends at the YMCA and coworkers and how awesome they both are (that comes up a lot).
Finally, I wrapped up the epic seven-page entry talking about how I have no idea what my life will be like when I get home, as well as a few life lessons I’ve learned here in Africa. Like Rule No. 1, which is never look up. Ever. There’s always a spider there waiting for you. And it’s usually pretty big.
After that entry I was on page 43. I was one page ahead! I got really excited and pleased with myself, thinking that 41 more pages in 42 days would be a piece of cake.
That was on Thursday, 11th August. Today (Friday, 19th August) is the first I’ve written in my journal since then. I’m not going to meet my goal if weeks go by between entries.
So I’m going to re-rededicate myself to writing in my journal. And part of this column is to keep me accountable. If you see me on the streets of Freetown, please say hello, and then ask me when the last time I wrote in my journal was.
I always carry my journal around in my backpack with me. It’s all black, and features the logo for the Seattle Mariners, a professional baseball team from my hometown. The Mariners are one of my favorite sports teams in the world, and my dream job is to cover a baseball team (like the Mariners) for a news outlet. In fact, I’ve even written about that in my Seattle Mariners journal.
I don’t know what the rest of my trip to Sierra Leone will bring for me, but I know I’ll be documenting it regularly in my journal. I’ll never, ever forget this trip, or the things that have happened to me along the way, unless I fall and hit my head and forget who I am, where I’m from and what I’ve done.
I sincerely hope that day never comes, but if it does at least my journal will make sure I can remember my time in Salone.
Column No. 27 - Happy Birthday Awoko
Happy Birthday Awoko
By David Krueger
This week Awoko celebrated its 13th birthday. I’ve been here for 48 of its 4,745 days of operation, and in that short time I learned early on how important this paper is to those who work for it.
The people at Awoko care about the paper. The reporters, for example, want to go out and cover programs. They want to write stories that help inform the public. They have journalistic standards that help them find the news value of a topic and write about it in a balanced and fair way.
Those are just the names you see in the paper. Meanwhile, there are countless others that make the paper possible. From the cashier and security guard at the office, to the people who run the presses and actually print the newspaper, everybody works, usually around the clock, to get this paper out to its readers.
Mr. Kelvin Lewis, the editor of the paper, cares about it the most. He’s very involved in the process of putting the newspaper together (in a good way). He even sanctioned sending groups of reporters around the country to look at the Free Government Healthcare program to see if it’s successful in helping the citizens of Sierra Leone.
Then there are the other editors, who go through my stories to make sure they’re perfect before they’re put in the paper. I try to make their jobs fairly easy, but more often than not there are quite a few corrections to make. I appreciate their work greatly. Because of it, I will be a better reporter, columnist and writer when I leave Salone.
After I had been here for about a month I finally asked the two questions that had been on my mind since my first day of work. What does “awoko” mean and why does the logo have a parrot in it?
It turns out “awoko” means “somebody (or in this case, something) that talks a lot.” I feel like this is a very appropriate name for a newspaper. We talk a lot and hope the general public listens and remains informed.
The use of the parrot also suddenly became clear. Besides humans, I’m not sure if any animal talks more than a parrot. I’m not really sure if any other animal talks, but I still really like the parrot idea.
In the United States daily newspapers are closing every day. My home city of Seattle, a major metropolitan area, used to have two daily newspapers, The Seattle Times and The Seattle Post-Intelligencer. The latter closed over a year ago, leaving The Times as the only daily paper for over 3.4 million people.
Here there is no lack of newspapers. I read over 10 per day. Some appear more balanced than others, but all are informative and give me a glimpse of journalism in Sierra Leone.
I became very proud the other day while looking through my “Lonely Planet” guide to West Africa. The section on Sierra Leone is fairly short, but it includes an
information box that lists Awoko as one of “the most respected newspapers” here.
Obviously, I agree with Lonely Planet’s assessment.
Awoko has been hosting interns from the University of Washington for the last five years, starting with Michael Carter in 2007. Michael came to one of my classes last December and talked about his experience in Sierra Leone. He spoke about it, years later, like it was the best time of his life.
It was largely because of Michael that I applied for the Foreign Intrigue Scholarship, which sends students around the world to work for various news organizations. I made it very clear early on that Freetown, Sierra Leone was my first choice. I had googled Freetown and the first picture to show up was an incredible sunset over the ocean from Lumley Beach.
From then on, no other city could top Freetown.
I talked to two other people who had come to work at Awoko, Yu Nakayama (who came the year after Michael) and Lillian Tucker (last year’s intern). Both of them spoke incredibly highly of the newspaper, Mr. Lewis and Sierra Leone in general. Yu obviously misses it here. So does Lillian, who had to leave after only a month on the job because of health problems.
I’m very proud to be the fifth in what’s hopefully a long line of Washington Huskies that come to work for a summer in Freetown. I hope that next year’s intern finds me and I get to tell him or her all about my experiences, while informing them of how much fun their going to have working for Awoko.
For a journalist student there really is no better way to spend a summer. I’m living my dream job.
I get to report (which I’ve always wanted to do) and write a column (which I’ve really always wanted to do) about whatever I want in West Africa (which I’ve always wanted to visit).
Whatever happens to me I get to write about it and share the feeling with anybody who wants to read it. Some people don’t really care, and I understand that. But others I’ve talked to said they really enjoy my column, or a particular column. When someone tells me that it’s one of the best feelings in the world.
I’m going to be very sad when I leave not just because I’ll miss all the people and sights of Salone, but also because I’ll be leaving a job that I might never be able to top.
That just means I better enjoy it as much as possible while I can, which I think I’m succeeding at. I love my job, and anybody who talks to me quickly learns that. Everybody that I’ve met here quickly learns what I do.
So, I’d like to say thank you to Awoko for giving me the opportunity of a lifetime. Congratulations on putting out a great product for the last 13 years, and I wish you many more successful years of publication (and interns) ahead.
By David Krueger
This week Awoko celebrated its 13th birthday. I’ve been here for 48 of its 4,745 days of operation, and in that short time I learned early on how important this paper is to those who work for it.
The people at Awoko care about the paper. The reporters, for example, want to go out and cover programs. They want to write stories that help inform the public. They have journalistic standards that help them find the news value of a topic and write about it in a balanced and fair way.
Those are just the names you see in the paper. Meanwhile, there are countless others that make the paper possible. From the cashier and security guard at the office, to the people who run the presses and actually print the newspaper, everybody works, usually around the clock, to get this paper out to its readers.
Mr. Kelvin Lewis, the editor of the paper, cares about it the most. He’s very involved in the process of putting the newspaper together (in a good way). He even sanctioned sending groups of reporters around the country to look at the Free Government Healthcare program to see if it’s successful in helping the citizens of Sierra Leone.
Then there are the other editors, who go through my stories to make sure they’re perfect before they’re put in the paper. I try to make their jobs fairly easy, but more often than not there are quite a few corrections to make. I appreciate their work greatly. Because of it, I will be a better reporter, columnist and writer when I leave Salone.
After I had been here for about a month I finally asked the two questions that had been on my mind since my first day of work. What does “awoko” mean and why does the logo have a parrot in it?
It turns out “awoko” means “somebody (or in this case, something) that talks a lot.” I feel like this is a very appropriate name for a newspaper. We talk a lot and hope the general public listens and remains informed.
The use of the parrot also suddenly became clear. Besides humans, I’m not sure if any animal talks more than a parrot. I’m not really sure if any other animal talks, but I still really like the parrot idea.
In the United States daily newspapers are closing every day. My home city of Seattle, a major metropolitan area, used to have two daily newspapers, The Seattle Times and The Seattle Post-Intelligencer. The latter closed over a year ago, leaving The Times as the only daily paper for over 3.4 million people.
Here there is no lack of newspapers. I read over 10 per day. Some appear more balanced than others, but all are informative and give me a glimpse of journalism in Sierra Leone.
I became very proud the other day while looking through my “Lonely Planet” guide to West Africa. The section on Sierra Leone is fairly short, but it includes an
information box that lists Awoko as one of “the most respected newspapers” here.
Obviously, I agree with Lonely Planet’s assessment.
Awoko has been hosting interns from the University of Washington for the last five years, starting with Michael Carter in 2007. Michael came to one of my classes last December and talked about his experience in Sierra Leone. He spoke about it, years later, like it was the best time of his life.
It was largely because of Michael that I applied for the Foreign Intrigue Scholarship, which sends students around the world to work for various news organizations. I made it very clear early on that Freetown, Sierra Leone was my first choice. I had googled Freetown and the first picture to show up was an incredible sunset over the ocean from Lumley Beach.
From then on, no other city could top Freetown.
I talked to two other people who had come to work at Awoko, Yu Nakayama (who came the year after Michael) and Lillian Tucker (last year’s intern). Both of them spoke incredibly highly of the newspaper, Mr. Lewis and Sierra Leone in general. Yu obviously misses it here. So does Lillian, who had to leave after only a month on the job because of health problems.
I’m very proud to be the fifth in what’s hopefully a long line of Washington Huskies that come to work for a summer in Freetown. I hope that next year’s intern finds me and I get to tell him or her all about my experiences, while informing them of how much fun their going to have working for Awoko.
For a journalist student there really is no better way to spend a summer. I’m living my dream job.
I get to report (which I’ve always wanted to do) and write a column (which I’ve really always wanted to do) about whatever I want in West Africa (which I’ve always wanted to visit).
Whatever happens to me I get to write about it and share the feeling with anybody who wants to read it. Some people don’t really care, and I understand that. But others I’ve talked to said they really enjoy my column, or a particular column. When someone tells me that it’s one of the best feelings in the world.
I’m going to be very sad when I leave not just because I’ll miss all the people and sights of Salone, but also because I’ll be leaving a job that I might never be able to top.
That just means I better enjoy it as much as possible while I can, which I think I’m succeeding at. I love my job, and anybody who talks to me quickly learns that. Everybody that I’ve met here quickly learns what I do.
So, I’d like to say thank you to Awoko for giving me the opportunity of a lifetime. Congratulations on putting out a great product for the last 13 years, and I wish you many more successful years of publication (and interns) ahead.
Column No. 26 - Waterfalls and Chimpanzees
Waterfalls and Chimpanzees
By David Krueger
Most days in Sierra Leone I’m a reporter. On Saturday, I got to be a tourist.
I hopped in a rather cramped taxi van with seven other friends and headed to the Charlotte Waterfall and the Tacugama Chimpanzee Sanctuary, two locations I’ve looked forward to visiting since my arrival in Sierra Leone.
Sitting in the back of a van with three other people as we were jerked around from side to side (and occasionally up and down) wasn’t the most fun I’ve had in West Africa, but the destinations made up for the bumpy, uncomfortable ride that resulted in a flat tire about 100 meters from the entrance to the chimpanzee sanctuary.
The first stop was the waterfall. The taxi drove down a rather large hill (this is important to the story later) and dropped us off at what was perhaps once a bridge over a small river. From there we met a man who really wanted to show us around.
We followed him to a church, a few houses and then we headed for the main attraction: the waterfall. We hiked along a path for about 15 minutes stopping only at a house where they charged us Le5,000 to visit the waterfall.
I’m not sure how this happened, but the owner of this house is brilliant. He or she realized that the house is on the way to a landmark, that lots of people want to see. I’m 99.9 percent sure the owner of this house does not own the waterfall, nor did he or she have any part of its wondrous development.
Still, they found a way to profit off of the location of their home, and that’s pretty smart. Some might question the validity of the claim to money to continue along a path in nature, others might praise the owner for using good business sense.
Either way, the person made Le40,000 from our group that day, and all they had to do was pop out of a window and ask for money.
We continued down the path, peeking through trees as we saw our target. The waterfall came into view about two minutes before we were there, and we all began taking pictures and walking faster. It’s really fun being a tourist.
Finally, we arrived at the Charlotte Waterfall, and it quickly became one of my five favorite places in Salone.
Just in case you were wondering, the other four, in no particular order, are: the Awoko Newspaper office, Kambia Africana Village, the YMCA in Freetown and every beach I’ve ever been to here.
The United States Embassy and Sierra Leone-Guinea border are honorable mentions.
The thing that separates the Charlotte Waterfall from those places is how overwhelmingly calm it is. We were there for about three hours and we accomplished quite a bit. We sat there, just admiring how breathtakingly beautiful the waterfall was. While there we ate a little snack to recharge our bodies for the rest of the day and I even got in a 30 minute nap.
I was so happy at the waterfall I made the comment (several times) that I would visit it every day if I could. The incredible view along with the perfect weather and comforting and soothing sound of water splashing against rock easily made this one of my favorite places in the world, let alone Sierra Leone.
Then I got stupid.
A friend quickly began climbing the rocks next to the waterfall, and I thought “that looks fun. I can do that.”
It turns out scaling up the rocks wasn’t the problem, that went by relatively easily. It was figuring out a way back down that quickly became the major issue. Fortunately, we found some tree roots that we were able to use to scale down the slippery rocks back to safety.
I thought the hard part was over. Turns out I was wrong.
Just as I got back down and was celebrating a successful adventure and a safe return with my friend, my right foot started to slide and the rest of my body soon followed.
I began sliding down the waterfall which was a terrifying and quite fun experience. It was terrifying because to my right there was a rather large drop off that I didn’t think would feel very good should I end up at the bottom of it.
This is also probably a good time to point out that the current looked very strong, and I can’t swim.
The experience quickly became more fun as I looked to my left and saw a small (and safe) little pool of water that was only up to my ankles.
“Left! Left! LEFT!” I thought as I was sliding down the waterfall.
I’m happy to report I was able to venture left into the little pool. Had I not been able to, you might not be reading this column today. And, the ride down was pretty fun.
I ventured back up to my friends, who had a combination of relief, terror and even a little jealousy on their faces. It turns out my friend had taken a picture while I was sliding, that is probably my favorite picture taken here in Salone. My face, with a blend of fear and excitement, looks pretty hilarious.
We all hung out at the waterfall for a little longer, I tried (unsuccessfully) to dry my clothes and then we headed back to the taxi.
Remember how I said it drove to the bottom of a big hill? Well the taxi almost didn’t make it back up the hill. The ground was wet and soft, and the taxi was heavy, being filled with nine people. Sitting in the cab, we began to worry that soon we might be pushing this rather large vehicle up an even bigger hill.
However, after a few tries we were able to gain some traction and head back up the hill, to visit the Tacugama Chimpanzee Sanctuary.
This is another honorable mention for favorite places in Salone. It would have been higher, but it began to rain while we were there.
I had a lot of fun walking around the sanctuary. I got to see a baby chimp with its mother during feeding time in one encampment, as well as a large, angry chimp get mad in another area and start throwing things that began to bang against the fence in another part of the facility.
I don’t know exactly what the chimpanzee threw at the cage and I didn’t wait around to find out. A worker at the sanctuary ushered us away before we could see much else.
Then the rain began, which didn’t really affect me because I was already still pretty wet. Our tour drew to a close, as did one of the best days I’ve had in Salone. We piled back into our taxi for the bumpy ride home, hoping for no more flat tires.
By David Krueger
Most days in Sierra Leone I’m a reporter. On Saturday, I got to be a tourist.
I hopped in a rather cramped taxi van with seven other friends and headed to the Charlotte Waterfall and the Tacugama Chimpanzee Sanctuary, two locations I’ve looked forward to visiting since my arrival in Sierra Leone.
Sitting in the back of a van with three other people as we were jerked around from side to side (and occasionally up and down) wasn’t the most fun I’ve had in West Africa, but the destinations made up for the bumpy, uncomfortable ride that resulted in a flat tire about 100 meters from the entrance to the chimpanzee sanctuary.
The first stop was the waterfall. The taxi drove down a rather large hill (this is important to the story later) and dropped us off at what was perhaps once a bridge over a small river. From there we met a man who really wanted to show us around.
We followed him to a church, a few houses and then we headed for the main attraction: the waterfall. We hiked along a path for about 15 minutes stopping only at a house where they charged us Le5,000 to visit the waterfall.
I’m not sure how this happened, but the owner of this house is brilliant. He or she realized that the house is on the way to a landmark, that lots of people want to see. I’m 99.9 percent sure the owner of this house does not own the waterfall, nor did he or she have any part of its wondrous development.
Still, they found a way to profit off of the location of their home, and that’s pretty smart. Some might question the validity of the claim to money to continue along a path in nature, others might praise the owner for using good business sense.
Either way, the person made Le40,000 from our group that day, and all they had to do was pop out of a window and ask for money.
We continued down the path, peeking through trees as we saw our target. The waterfall came into view about two minutes before we were there, and we all began taking pictures and walking faster. It’s really fun being a tourist.
Finally, we arrived at the Charlotte Waterfall, and it quickly became one of my five favorite places in Salone.
Just in case you were wondering, the other four, in no particular order, are: the Awoko Newspaper office, Kambia Africana Village, the YMCA in Freetown and every beach I’ve ever been to here.
The United States Embassy and Sierra Leone-Guinea border are honorable mentions.
The thing that separates the Charlotte Waterfall from those places is how overwhelmingly calm it is. We were there for about three hours and we accomplished quite a bit. We sat there, just admiring how breathtakingly beautiful the waterfall was. While there we ate a little snack to recharge our bodies for the rest of the day and I even got in a 30 minute nap.
I was so happy at the waterfall I made the comment (several times) that I would visit it every day if I could. The incredible view along with the perfect weather and comforting and soothing sound of water splashing against rock easily made this one of my favorite places in the world, let alone Sierra Leone.
Then I got stupid.
A friend quickly began climbing the rocks next to the waterfall, and I thought “that looks fun. I can do that.”
It turns out scaling up the rocks wasn’t the problem, that went by relatively easily. It was figuring out a way back down that quickly became the major issue. Fortunately, we found some tree roots that we were able to use to scale down the slippery rocks back to safety.
I thought the hard part was over. Turns out I was wrong.
Just as I got back down and was celebrating a successful adventure and a safe return with my friend, my right foot started to slide and the rest of my body soon followed.
I began sliding down the waterfall which was a terrifying and quite fun experience. It was terrifying because to my right there was a rather large drop off that I didn’t think would feel very good should I end up at the bottom of it.
This is also probably a good time to point out that the current looked very strong, and I can’t swim.
The experience quickly became more fun as I looked to my left and saw a small (and safe) little pool of water that was only up to my ankles.
“Left! Left! LEFT!” I thought as I was sliding down the waterfall.
I’m happy to report I was able to venture left into the little pool. Had I not been able to, you might not be reading this column today. And, the ride down was pretty fun.
I ventured back up to my friends, who had a combination of relief, terror and even a little jealousy on their faces. It turns out my friend had taken a picture while I was sliding, that is probably my favorite picture taken here in Salone. My face, with a blend of fear and excitement, looks pretty hilarious.
We all hung out at the waterfall for a little longer, I tried (unsuccessfully) to dry my clothes and then we headed back to the taxi.
Remember how I said it drove to the bottom of a big hill? Well the taxi almost didn’t make it back up the hill. The ground was wet and soft, and the taxi was heavy, being filled with nine people. Sitting in the cab, we began to worry that soon we might be pushing this rather large vehicle up an even bigger hill.
However, after a few tries we were able to gain some traction and head back up the hill, to visit the Tacugama Chimpanzee Sanctuary.
This is another honorable mention for favorite places in Salone. It would have been higher, but it began to rain while we were there.
I had a lot of fun walking around the sanctuary. I got to see a baby chimp with its mother during feeding time in one encampment, as well as a large, angry chimp get mad in another area and start throwing things that began to bang against the fence in another part of the facility.
I don’t know exactly what the chimpanzee threw at the cage and I didn’t wait around to find out. A worker at the sanctuary ushered us away before we could see much else.
Then the rain began, which didn’t really affect me because I was already still pretty wet. Our tour drew to a close, as did one of the best days I’ve had in Salone. We piled back into our taxi for the bumpy ride home, hoping for no more flat tires.
Monday, August 15, 2011
The Official When I Get Back To Washington To-Do List
The halfway point of my journey recently came and went on Thursday, and I got a little bit sad about leaving Sierra Leone. So, to cheer myself up, I made a list of things I’m going to do upon my arrival back to the states. I’m not excited (per se) to leave Freetown now, but the following activities (which, have for the most part been confirmed; the last four still require a bit more work to make happen but rest assured, they will happen) will definitely make going home a little bit easier.
I think there’s something on this list that everybody will like. If you want to be involved in any of the following activities let me know and we’ll make it happen. Without further ado:
The Official When I Get Back to Washington To-Do List:
-Go to Ocean Shores
-Jay-Z and Kanye Concert
-Go to at least one (or three) more Mariners games
-Hit up the Ave. (for old time’s sake)
-Go to North Dakota for a couple weeks
-Get my motorcycle license
-Go to the Apple Cup (and perhaps a bowl game?)
-Get a job at ESPN
A little bit of North Dakota...in West Africa
The weirdest thing just happened. But before I can tell you that story, I need to tell you this one:
There’s a Target in Grand Forks, North Dakota. Actually, it’s a Super Target. It’s huge. It’s about 1,000,000,000 sq. ft. (I’m estimating). It takes up about 1/3 of the city of Grand Forks.
Okay those last two things aren’t entirely factually accurate, but the rest of this will be.
If you need anything in Grand Forks, that’s your place to go. Whether it’s a new garden hose, the latest DVD release, a tennis racket, anything, you’ll find it there. There’s even a Starbucks for us West Coasters to go get a coffee should we get homesick (or a Frappuccino. I hate how girly that looks. But their delicious. And I don’ t drink coffee. What the hell else am I supposed to do?)(I also hate that spell check recognizes Frappuccino and believes it needs to be capitalized because it’s a Starbucks Frappuccino. I bet cappuccino isn’t capitalized! Hey I was right!)
Bringing it back. Almost every time I go to Target I run into somebody I know, and I don’t know that many people in Grand Forks. But it’s uncanny how often I run into friends, family and family friends.
There’s another thing that happens EVERY time I go to Target with my family. I lose my Grandma and little sister. We always agree on a meeting place and time, but I always finish early and for some reason have this misplaced confidence that tells me “David, you can do it. I bet they’re in produce.” They’re never in produce.
Thank God for cell phones or I’m not sure what we’d do. I’m convinced that before cell phones, people wandered around Super Target for days looking for lost loved ones. Trips to the grocery store probably took almost a week to complete. Although, if you’re going to be lost somewhere for a week, Super Target is the place to be stuck. They have everything you need to survive and then some (see above).
Every time I go back to North Dakota I go to Super Target. It’s part of my vacation checklist, one of those things you just have to do. As soon as I get to North Dakota after I leave Freetown, the Super Target will probably be one of the first places I visit. It’s that awesome.
So why did I just spend 379 words (don’t worry, it’s right; I checked!) talking about a Super Target in Grand Forks, North Dakota. Because you had to understand how much that Super Target means to me, in order to realize how much the following event meant to me.
I got home from work and took my polo off to change into a much more comfortable (and fashionable) Ken Griffey Jr. Mariners shirt (that’s right, I’m still representing in West Africa! Let’s go M’s! Get your heads out of your collective butts!). As I took it off, a weird smell entered my nose. It wasn’t bad or unpleasant, in fact, it was the opposite.
It smelt like the Super Target in Grand Forks, North Dakota.
I don’t know how to explain what it smells like, but that’s why my polo smells like. I suppose it just smells like any other Target, but my mind instantly went to Grand Forks. Stores here don’t smell like that. They smell different. Not bad. Just different. (Some smell like really, really old fish. They smell bad.)
I haven’t been to that Super Target in over a year, and I don’t think this particular polo has ever been to that store. But now I have a dilemma on my hands. I love smelling my polo, and don’t want to wear it and have it lose its bulls-eye related scent.
(Please don’t worry. It’s not lost on me how blessed I am that this is my biggest problem of the day.)
I currently have my shirt sealed in a humidity-free, vacuum-sealed plastic bag. I think it’s going to stay there until I decide that I need to wear the polo again because I’m sick of the other four shirts I brought for work.
Or until I buy another polo, allowing me to keep mine in the bag and preserve the aroma of Super Target (which would be the worst cologne ever). I know it sounds stupid, but I like that I can go to North Dakota whenever I want to, just by smelling a polo.
These are the things I spend a good part of my day thinking about. I think I’m starting to lose my mind. Look for the next blog post when a dirty sock reminds me of New York City!
Column No. 25- On my own
On my own
By David Krueger
I spent the first six weeks of my trip tagging along with coworkers as they covered meetings, announcements and sporting events, helping them write stories, authoring a few of my own and observing how journalism in Sierra Leone works.
Last Thursday I was sent to a press conference, on my own.
I was a little nervous. I always feel a little anxious whenever I get ready for a work outing. I like to think it keeps me sharp and on my toes. Sometimes it just makes me do stupid things.
Like on the walk to Talking Drum Studios. I was headed there for a press conference about “The Team Salone,” a new television program co-produced by SLBC that shows the value of dealing with diversity through a football team trying to win a tournament.
On the way to the event, I was rereading the letter dropped off at the Awoko office to make sure I knew as much about the television series as I could before the press conference, so I could make sure that any questions I might have for my article would be answered.
I was so busy reading and coming up with questions that I didn’t see the window that had been opened and was sticking out into the walkway directly in front of me. My shoulder bounced off the window and immediately began to hurt.
Fortunately, only about two people saw me run shoulder-first into the window. They couldn’t hide their smiles, but at least they didn’t say anything to make fun of the kid who walked directly into a window.
With the window incident behind me I continued to the Talking Drum Studios office, or at least what I thought was the office. I saw a sign on a three-story building on Bathurst Street, but didn’t know how to get to that third story.
I walked around to the corner of the building, to what I thought might be the studio, but turned out to be a chemicals store. Fortunately, a very friendly woman who saw me rubbing my shoulder, took me around to the other side of the building and pointed me in the right direction.
Once I finally got to the right room of the correct office I sat down and waited. And waited. I know that conferences rarely start on time here in Salone, but I figured I should be here a few minutes early just in case.
I passed the time listening to reporters from other news outlets discussing next year’s Presidential election between Maada Bio and current President Dr. Ernest Bai Koroma. I didn’t participate in the discussion because I really don’t feel like I know enough about the political climate here in Sierra Leone to contribute anything to the debate.
Eventually, the press conference began at 12:30 p.m., only about a half hour later than scheduled. I really didn’t mind. It gave me a chance to re-reread the letter and become an expert on this particular television show. Plus, sitting at a table, there were very few ways to hurt my shoulder while reading.
The presentation began and the 15 or so reporters there immediately began feverishly taking notes. We heard all about “The Team,” which, quite frankly, sounds like a good show. It has a good message, one that I think everybody can get on board with.
“It’s all around a simple metaphor: if you don’t cooperate, you don’t score goals,” said Ambrose James, the Country Director for the Search for Common Ground, which oversees Talking Drum Studios.
After an overview of the program, the media was treated to the first ten minutes of the first episode. It’s a good show. The acting is very good and the actual football scenes are pretty well orchestrated.
As the press conference began to wind down, and the other journalists were making sure all of their questions were answered I began to piece together my article in my head. I usually try to mentally outline my stories before I leave, in case I realize there’s some vital information I’m forgetting to get.
One time I covered a high school basketball game for a newspaper back home in America and forgot to ask the coach what his name was. I was able to find it on the internet, but was still a little embarrassed that I forgot to ask my main source his name. I like to get as much information as possible now before it’s too late.
Confident I had everything I needed I began to relax a little bit when another journalist inadvertently reminded me that my work was not complete. I saw him taking a few snapshots of the program and realized that was a really good idea. I had remembered to bring my camera along, and figured I may as well use it.
After the pictures were taken and I was again sure I had all I needed, I waited for the final question to be answered and then headed back to the office to write my story. It went by fairly quickly, and it turned out I did in fact, have everything I needed. Including a picture, that ran with the story in Friday’s paper.
Last Thursday was a fun day. It felt good to be able to go out on my own and prove that I can get stories done. I’m getting more and more confident and excited to work here in Sierra Leone every day, and I hope that feeling continues as I get to go out and cover additional programs by myself.
This isn’t to say I don’t like going out with my coworkers, because I love doing that. I have a lot of questions about life here, and it’s incredibly helpful and informative to have someone along with me to explain what’s going on. However, it’s good to get out on your own once in a while. I like showing people what I can do.
The only thing I might change is from now on while walking to press conferences I’m going to try to keep my head up. I can always reread and re-reread the press releases when I arrive, hopefully without a sore shoulder.
By David Krueger
I spent the first six weeks of my trip tagging along with coworkers as they covered meetings, announcements and sporting events, helping them write stories, authoring a few of my own and observing how journalism in Sierra Leone works.
Last Thursday I was sent to a press conference, on my own.
I was a little nervous. I always feel a little anxious whenever I get ready for a work outing. I like to think it keeps me sharp and on my toes. Sometimes it just makes me do stupid things.
Like on the walk to Talking Drum Studios. I was headed there for a press conference about “The Team Salone,” a new television program co-produced by SLBC that shows the value of dealing with diversity through a football team trying to win a tournament.
On the way to the event, I was rereading the letter dropped off at the Awoko office to make sure I knew as much about the television series as I could before the press conference, so I could make sure that any questions I might have for my article would be answered.
I was so busy reading and coming up with questions that I didn’t see the window that had been opened and was sticking out into the walkway directly in front of me. My shoulder bounced off the window and immediately began to hurt.
Fortunately, only about two people saw me run shoulder-first into the window. They couldn’t hide their smiles, but at least they didn’t say anything to make fun of the kid who walked directly into a window.
With the window incident behind me I continued to the Talking Drum Studios office, or at least what I thought was the office. I saw a sign on a three-story building on Bathurst Street, but didn’t know how to get to that third story.
I walked around to the corner of the building, to what I thought might be the studio, but turned out to be a chemicals store. Fortunately, a very friendly woman who saw me rubbing my shoulder, took me around to the other side of the building and pointed me in the right direction.
Once I finally got to the right room of the correct office I sat down and waited. And waited. I know that conferences rarely start on time here in Salone, but I figured I should be here a few minutes early just in case.
I passed the time listening to reporters from other news outlets discussing next year’s Presidential election between Maada Bio and current President Dr. Ernest Bai Koroma. I didn’t participate in the discussion because I really don’t feel like I know enough about the political climate here in Sierra Leone to contribute anything to the debate.
Eventually, the press conference began at 12:30 p.m., only about a half hour later than scheduled. I really didn’t mind. It gave me a chance to re-reread the letter and become an expert on this particular television show. Plus, sitting at a table, there were very few ways to hurt my shoulder while reading.
The presentation began and the 15 or so reporters there immediately began feverishly taking notes. We heard all about “The Team,” which, quite frankly, sounds like a good show. It has a good message, one that I think everybody can get on board with.
“It’s all around a simple metaphor: if you don’t cooperate, you don’t score goals,” said Ambrose James, the Country Director for the Search for Common Ground, which oversees Talking Drum Studios.
After an overview of the program, the media was treated to the first ten minutes of the first episode. It’s a good show. The acting is very good and the actual football scenes are pretty well orchestrated.
As the press conference began to wind down, and the other journalists were making sure all of their questions were answered I began to piece together my article in my head. I usually try to mentally outline my stories before I leave, in case I realize there’s some vital information I’m forgetting to get.
One time I covered a high school basketball game for a newspaper back home in America and forgot to ask the coach what his name was. I was able to find it on the internet, but was still a little embarrassed that I forgot to ask my main source his name. I like to get as much information as possible now before it’s too late.
Confident I had everything I needed I began to relax a little bit when another journalist inadvertently reminded me that my work was not complete. I saw him taking a few snapshots of the program and realized that was a really good idea. I had remembered to bring my camera along, and figured I may as well use it.
After the pictures were taken and I was again sure I had all I needed, I waited for the final question to be answered and then headed back to the office to write my story. It went by fairly quickly, and it turned out I did in fact, have everything I needed. Including a picture, that ran with the story in Friday’s paper.
Last Thursday was a fun day. It felt good to be able to go out on my own and prove that I can get stories done. I’m getting more and more confident and excited to work here in Sierra Leone every day, and I hope that feeling continues as I get to go out and cover additional programs by myself.
This isn’t to say I don’t like going out with my coworkers, because I love doing that. I have a lot of questions about life here, and it’s incredibly helpful and informative to have someone along with me to explain what’s going on. However, it’s good to get out on your own once in a while. I like showing people what I can do.
The only thing I might change is from now on while walking to press conferences I’m going to try to keep my head up. I can always reread and re-reread the press releases when I arrive, hopefully without a sore shoulder.
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