Ann and I have been in Kenema for six days now. We left Port Loko last Friday, traveling to Freetown for our swearing in at the embassy. Yes, we are officially in the Peace Corps again! This second trip to Freetown (and probably our last before leaving Salone) included revisiting the U.S. embassy and the Peace Corps office and being immersed in the market economy of the city.
The geography of Freetown resembles that of San Francisco - no cable cars though - to get you up and down the hills. The city lies on the northern end of a large peninsula. Names of the suburbs reflect British colonialism - Hastings, Wellington, Glouster, Aberdeen, Regent. The peninsula itself is accessed through the grand central station of a town called Waterloo. At Waterloo one has two choices; south to the legendary beaches of Bureh and the Banana Islands or north to Freetown. If you are traveling from the interior via bus, taxi, poda-poda (microbus crammed with at least five people over capacity) or on the back of a Honda (name for all motorcycles), you will transfer at Waterloo. Imagine, if you can, a throng of vehicles, food vendors and travelers that goes on for about a mile. Our first thought was that we could never manage this chaos by ourselves should we wish to get to the beaches; somehow it did not seem as overwhelming the second time through.
Forsaking the southern route to paradise, we headed north ascending the backside of the peninsular hills that give the country its name, Sierra Leone (Lion Mountains). Most of the trip our LandCruiser zoomed along the well-maintained two-lane highway. Towards our final ascent to the embassy, however, the road deteriorates into a rutted minefield of potholes. The "embassy-fortress" sits high on one of the many hilltops of the city. Ever since Benghazi, there is no escaping the need for embassy security in modern Africa. It is an unfortunate consequence that one could easily interpret this architecture as imperialistic, aloof and domineering.
At the Peace Corps office we returning PC volunteers (our number now reduced to 8 due to a withdrawal) received our final debriefing and September's allowance. Ann and I are now both millionaires! Of course, one million Leones currently converts to $143, so we are expected to live on less than $10 a day after settling in. (We got some money for that too.) Free lodging and absolutely no taxes should help us stay in budget. A small sampling of prices: bottle of Beck's beer - $1, a fresh French baguette - $0.30 (same price as a bunch of five small bananas), one dozen eggs - $1.45. Ann and I plan to do our major city shopping in Kenema, but the others in our group, not knowing what awaited them at their sites, wanted to take advantage of the big city to do some major shopping.
Samuel, our driver, dutifully took six of us downtown to the major market streets. Along the way we passed by the famous Cotton Tree. This humongous tree in the kapok family has a trunk perhaps 8 feet in diameter and giant buttress roots anchoring its canopy. As the legend goes, when the African-American slaves who fought for the British during the American Revolution landed back in Africa on March 11, 1792 they celebrated their survival with a thanksgiving service, praying and singing at the base of the tree. It is a national treasure.
The best way I can describe the major market street in Freetown is to have you imagine the crowds at the Minnesota State Fair on its most popular day. The scene is a mass of humanity with a few daring cars mixed in, very claustrophobic. Making sure our newly-acquired monetary gains were secure (we have been warned time and time again about thievery in Freetown) we descended from the air-conditioned security of our vehicle into the flowing river of people in the sweltering heat. About all we accomplished was to make it around the block and back to the car without incident. Later, Samuel drove us to a Lebanese supermarket where we were able to purchase familiar products. I splurged on a Butterfinger candy bar. Magnificent!
After a night spent at St. Edward's guest house where we dined on chicken gizzards and rice, were entertained by a giant millipede, and slept on NASCAR bed sheets, it was off to Kenema for Ann and me. The 300 kilometer journey to the southeast took us five and a half hours. We are now about as far away from Freetown as you can get and still be in Sierra Leone.
Kenema is the third largest city in Salone, but there is a world of difference between Freetown and this place. Upon arriving in town our first impression is that this is Salone's version of Sturgis, South Dakota. There are motorcycles zooming by everywhere. Each time we walk to town to do our daily shopping it is like stepping into the middle of a Harley rally. We just have to get used to the close proximity between man and machine. So far, I have only witnessed one human-motorbike accident and that was in Port Loko. One learns to be ultra-aware when walking on major streets and it helps that Sierra Leonians love to use their horns. We wake up every day to the constant beeps from the bikes on the major drag a few meters from our house. The second thing that cannot be ignored is the prevalence of diamond merchants and diamond-themed signs. Even the crest of our university has diamonds on it along with the traditional engineering symbols, compass and ruler. We are in the heart of diamond country.
Kenema is the perfect size for me. It feels like River Falls, but of course its population is much larger. It is easy to walk to the shopping areas and it has a few supermarkets of its own, again run by Lebanese merchants. There is plenty of food at the local open air markets. Store after store sell appliances and other household merchandise. Ann and I are adjusting nicely to our new home. We feel that we are living in a relative palace. Our place has a gas stove, small refrigerator, large living room, three bedrooms, a shower room, and a toilet room with bucket-flush sit-down toilet. It is an upgrade on what we experienced 40 years ago in Popokabaka. We couldn't dream for more.
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