Friday, March 22, 2013

Deb's day out

Today is World Water Day. 

Earlier this week I had the opportunity to join my friends from Universal Outreach Foundation (UOF) for a day out in a village where they were undergoing a well restoration project. UOF is a Canadian NGO that works in several much needed areas in Liberia-- education, small business development (specifically honey) and water & sanitation. The village we went to was about 2.5 hours outside of Monrovia so we had to leave early to get there in time to get everything done.

You gotta start every day right-- coffee and donuts the Liberian way.
The village was a tiny place with a name I can't pronounce or spell. The people were very friendly and grateful for the team's presence there. With the sun and temperature rising quickly, the well team got right to work fixing the only well in the village.

Fixing the well.
Their well had been broken for several months and the people had no other option than to drink from a nearby spring. The spring water was very dirty and literally bubbling with tadpoles. An older woman in the village told us that when they used that water to take a bath their skin would itch all night. I can only imagine how it was to drink it.

The spring the village had to drink from-- all the black you see in the bottom are tadpoles.
Photo op: Here the old woman is telling us about their horrid water conditions.
It didn't take long for the well to be functional again. The brilliant part of UOF's well restoration program is that they don't just come in, fix a well and leave. They spend time in the village teaching key people to be able to fix it themselves the next time something goes wrong. This village, that was drinking contaminated water for months because there was no one to fix it started the day with no clean water and a broken well. At the end of the day they had eight people trained, able to maintain and fix any problems that may come up in the future. The team also spends time teaching both adults and children in the village about proper hygiene and the importance of clean water.

There is not a lot that goes on in this tiny village-- all the kids lined up to watch the process.

This little guy was very shy and scared to come too close to the strangers in the village. I was able to lure him over with my camera-- 1st pic was as close as he would get, but I got his attention. 2nd pic, he had to come over and check out his picture. 3rd pic, what's that a smile? 30 seconds later he was curled up in my lap!
After a full day in the village we started the long trek back home. We were slowed down by a very uncharacteristic March monsoon rain storm. It was a 13 hour day, I was exhausted but thankful to be able to see first hand the amazing work my friends at UOF are doing every day. 

rain clouds

Wednesday, March 20, 2013

how i feel...

I find myself in an odd place these days. (and I don't mean Liberia, although it is definitely bizarre here.) I am not talking about a physical place either, it is more of an emotional place that I don't know how to define. It is like I am standing on the top of a hill and on one side I can see where I've been, where I've sacrificed and cried and laughed and grown and met amazing people and developed quite a love-hate relationship with an entire nation. On the other side is something new, yet familiar. Something I am excited, yet cautious about jumping into with both feet. On this side are old friends and dear family members. A house I love. A "real" job. Running water. Target. There are things I love on both sides of the hill. I am not leaving one side for the other because I don't love it, I am moving in a different direction simply because I know it is time. Standing on this hill, looking out over both sides I see things I love and will miss, things I dread and look forward to. Not only do I not know how to define this place, I don't know how to feel about it. Should I be happy? sad? excited? cautious? hopeful? torn? In fact, I feel all of these things and somehow they seem to have formed themselves into a huge conglomerate of nothing so that all I really feel is kinda numb. I've never really looked upon change as something I enjoy. I can identify that it is necessary and change does not mean bad. Change can be quite exciting and good. Yet still, I tend to be someone who prefers her comfort zone. How this small, strange land became my comfort zone is still a mystery to me, but it is true. I think I may have more concerns about returning to life in America than I have of leaving Liberia. There is a sweet simplicity among the chaos here that I fear will be lost in the midst of the rat race at home. I don't want to lose the person I've become here, I want so badly to find a way to bring her with me but am afraid in the process I will lose her. So, here I sit at the top of my hill so close to the peak that I know there is only one way I can go. I do have fears. I do have excitement. I do have peace-- sweet, deep, doesn't-make-sense peace. I know this is the direction I am supposed to go, but... it. is. not. easy.

(I do not write this looking for answers. I simply write to try and discover, to attempt to explain, where I am-- Because people keep asking how I feel, and I don't know what to say.)