A Day with the Ambassador
January 3, 2006
Really weird and exciting day. This morning I had an interview with the Lebanese Ambassador to Liberia. Our interview was scheduled for noon, but because I had no sense of how long it would take me to get to the embassy I left really early. Fist, a little about taxis.
Everyone I’ve met here has told me not to take taxis. Apparently they are not safe. In fact, all UN personnel—civilian and military—are forbidden from using taxis. But, for a number of reasons, I had no other way to get to the embassy today. So I hailed a taxi, which took about 30 seconds. My taxi driver was a nice Liberian and a safe driver. When we got to the embassy I asked the driver how much I owed him. “What do you want to give me?” he asked. I gave him US $2. Given his huge smile, I’m fairly sure I overpaid him, but I didn’t care. I feel I’m not making enough investment in Liberians while I am here because I am always shopping at Lebanese supermarkets and going out to eat at Lebanese restaurants.
So I arrived at the embassy at 10am, two hours before my scheduled interview. I was planning on just sitting in the waiting room and reading, but I was told the ambassador could see me immediately. The ambassador came into the waiting room 3 minutes after I arrived and took me outside to the back of the embassy to show me around. He then took me back into his office, where his Liberian staff (hmm…) brought us coconut water in champagne glasses, Lebanese coffee in tiny espresso mugs, and apricot and coconut biscuits. We proceeded to talk about the Lebanese community in Liberia for over 3 hours, and at the end of the interview he offered me a follow-up interview for next week. I have lots of stories to tell about the interview, but unfortunately they probably shouldn’t get posted on a public blog. Suffice to say, the ambassador is quite diplomatic, very talkative, and a philosopher at heart. When I was about to leave he insisted that his driver bring me back to my convent in his personal black Mercedes. For ethical reasons, I definitely shouldn’t have accepted this, but everything happened so quickly, and he wouldn’t accept my refusals. Oh well.
This afternoon John came over to the convent and we talked about the interview. John is kind of like my debriefing buddy. I tell him everything that happens to me here, and he explains and interprets everything in the context of Liberia. It has been extremely helpful to have such a good friend who is a Liberian.
Later I went over the marines’ house at the US Embassy and watched a couple of movies with the marines. I came back from the Embassy around 1, and the generator had already been turned off. But my flashlight immediately noticed a maroon-colored cockroach in the bathroom. I successfully cupped it with the fruit can safe, slid a magazine underneath it, and dumped it in the hall outside. I was very proud of myself. Cockroaches are scary.
And as of today I’m sick. Ugh. It was pretty inevitable, though, given my bread, hummus, and bread diet here.
January 2, 2006
This morning one of my Lebanese friends took me to an amazing Lebanese restaurant across from the UN headquarters. Lebanese food is so good.
We then went to Silver Beach, which I recently learned is the only beach that the Swedish UNMIL peacekeepers are allowed to swim at. All of the other beaches are apparently too polluted. Silver Beach is probably polluted as well, but it looks clean! The water here is so warm. I swam for a few hours while my Lebanese friends surfed. When I got out of the water I saw lots of people I knew, including some people from the US Embassy, USAID, and the UN. It was absurd. Silver Beach is definitely the expat beach of choice.
As it got later, I began to notice some weird things. First, the beach next to Silver Beach was getting incredibly crowded, while Silver Beach was still relatively empty. (Beaches here are smaller than the public beaches you see in the US, and usually owned by a restaurant. Each beach will have a couple of tiki huts with tables and chairs.) I asked one of my friends to explain what was happening. Apparently the prices at Silver Beach are high enough to ward off most Liberians from coming to the beach. But it certainly is not that expensive by Western standards. So while there were hundreds of Liberians across the bamboo fence crowding the neighboring beach, our beach had maybe 60 or so people. Most of them Westerners.
A few hours later I heard some barking and looking down the shore. A man had a very large, scary, and aggressive dog on a leash, and was using the dog to scare Liberians who had drifted onto Silver Beach back onto their beach. I saw a few children scream and run back to the other beach. It was awful. I found out later the man with the dog was the owner of Silver Beach.
So around dusk we started to drive back into Monrovia. I was sitting shotgun, with my arm hanging out the window, while we listened to some Enrique Iglesias. I was people watching and enjoying the ride, when a jogger bolted in front of our car, and we hit him, going about 10 miles per hour. The jogger, who was probably my age, kept running. We were all speechless and in shock. All of the sudden my Lebanese friend who was driving told me to move my arm. “What?” I said. “Move your arm now,” he yelled. Confused, I brought my arm back inside the car and he shut my window. Right after the window closed, the jogger ran right past me. My Lebanese friend explained that it was all a ploy. The jogger had purposely hit our car to distract me. I had my purse on my lap, and he was planning on jogging around our car and then reaching in the window and grabbing my purse.
I think this incident speaks to two important trends. First, the poverty here is so bad that people are willing to get hit by cars for a few bucks. Second, the Lebanese community is very street smart. One of the reasons they have become so successful with their business endeavors in this country is because they know so much about Liberia. It only took my Lebanese friend a few seconds after he hit the jogger to realize that something wasn’t right.
Later I met a different Lebanese at the Mamba Point for dinner, had a security guard walk me home, and fell asleep. I woke up in the middle of the night to get some water and saw a medium-sized cockroach on the wall. I pointed my flashlight at it, and it scurried up the wall. Reluctantly I picked up the fruit can safe. (Beatrice wasn’t under it! She must have escaped. Or decomposed to the point that she was invisible.) I tried unsuccessfully to cup the cockroach. I was so tired I quickly gave up, and miraculously fell asleep. I don’t even think I dreamt about the cockroach.
Really weird and exciting day. This morning I had an interview with the Lebanese Ambassador to Liberia. Our interview was scheduled for noon, but because I had no sense of how long it would take me to get to the embassy I left really early. Fist, a little about taxis.
Everyone I’ve met here has told me not to take taxis. Apparently they are not safe. In fact, all UN personnel—civilian and military—are forbidden from using taxis. But, for a number of reasons, I had no other way to get to the embassy today. So I hailed a taxi, which took about 30 seconds. My taxi driver was a nice Liberian and a safe driver. When we got to the embassy I asked the driver how much I owed him. “What do you want to give me?” he asked. I gave him US $2. Given his huge smile, I’m fairly sure I overpaid him, but I didn’t care. I feel I’m not making enough investment in Liberians while I am here because I am always shopping at Lebanese supermarkets and going out to eat at Lebanese restaurants.
So I arrived at the embassy at 10am, two hours before my scheduled interview. I was planning on just sitting in the waiting room and reading, but I was told the ambassador could see me immediately. The ambassador came into the waiting room 3 minutes after I arrived and took me outside to the back of the embassy to show me around. He then took me back into his office, where his Liberian staff (hmm…) brought us coconut water in champagne glasses, Lebanese coffee in tiny espresso mugs, and apricot and coconut biscuits. We proceeded to talk about the Lebanese community in Liberia for over 3 hours, and at the end of the interview he offered me a follow-up interview for next week. I have lots of stories to tell about the interview, but unfortunately they probably shouldn’t get posted on a public blog. Suffice to say, the ambassador is quite diplomatic, very talkative, and a philosopher at heart. When I was about to leave he insisted that his driver bring me back to my convent in his personal black Mercedes. For ethical reasons, I definitely shouldn’t have accepted this, but everything happened so quickly, and he wouldn’t accept my refusals. Oh well.
This afternoon John came over to the convent and we talked about the interview. John is kind of like my debriefing buddy. I tell him everything that happens to me here, and he explains and interprets everything in the context of Liberia. It has been extremely helpful to have such a good friend who is a Liberian.
Later I went over the marines’ house at the US Embassy and watched a couple of movies with the marines. I came back from the Embassy around 1, and the generator had already been turned off. But my flashlight immediately noticed a maroon-colored cockroach in the bathroom. I successfully cupped it with the fruit can safe, slid a magazine underneath it, and dumped it in the hall outside. I was very proud of myself. Cockroaches are scary.
And as of today I’m sick. Ugh. It was pretty inevitable, though, given my bread, hummus, and bread diet here.
January 2, 2006
This morning one of my Lebanese friends took me to an amazing Lebanese restaurant across from the UN headquarters. Lebanese food is so good.
We then went to Silver Beach, which I recently learned is the only beach that the Swedish UNMIL peacekeepers are allowed to swim at. All of the other beaches are apparently too polluted. Silver Beach is probably polluted as well, but it looks clean! The water here is so warm. I swam for a few hours while my Lebanese friends surfed. When I got out of the water I saw lots of people I knew, including some people from the US Embassy, USAID, and the UN. It was absurd. Silver Beach is definitely the expat beach of choice.
As it got later, I began to notice some weird things. First, the beach next to Silver Beach was getting incredibly crowded, while Silver Beach was still relatively empty. (Beaches here are smaller than the public beaches you see in the US, and usually owned by a restaurant. Each beach will have a couple of tiki huts with tables and chairs.) I asked one of my friends to explain what was happening. Apparently the prices at Silver Beach are high enough to ward off most Liberians from coming to the beach. But it certainly is not that expensive by Western standards. So while there were hundreds of Liberians across the bamboo fence crowding the neighboring beach, our beach had maybe 60 or so people. Most of them Westerners.
A few hours later I heard some barking and looking down the shore. A man had a very large, scary, and aggressive dog on a leash, and was using the dog to scare Liberians who had drifted onto Silver Beach back onto their beach. I saw a few children scream and run back to the other beach. It was awful. I found out later the man with the dog was the owner of Silver Beach.
So around dusk we started to drive back into Monrovia. I was sitting shotgun, with my arm hanging out the window, while we listened to some Enrique Iglesias. I was people watching and enjoying the ride, when a jogger bolted in front of our car, and we hit him, going about 10 miles per hour. The jogger, who was probably my age, kept running. We were all speechless and in shock. All of the sudden my Lebanese friend who was driving told me to move my arm. “What?” I said. “Move your arm now,” he yelled. Confused, I brought my arm back inside the car and he shut my window. Right after the window closed, the jogger ran right past me. My Lebanese friend explained that it was all a ploy. The jogger had purposely hit our car to distract me. I had my purse on my lap, and he was planning on jogging around our car and then reaching in the window and grabbing my purse.
I think this incident speaks to two important trends. First, the poverty here is so bad that people are willing to get hit by cars for a few bucks. Second, the Lebanese community is very street smart. One of the reasons they have become so successful with their business endeavors in this country is because they know so much about Liberia. It only took my Lebanese friend a few seconds after he hit the jogger to realize that something wasn’t right.
Later I met a different Lebanese at the Mamba Point for dinner, had a security guard walk me home, and fell asleep. I woke up in the middle of the night to get some water and saw a medium-sized cockroach on the wall. I pointed my flashlight at it, and it scurried up the wall. Reluctantly I picked up the fruit can safe. (Beatrice wasn’t under it! She must have escaped. Or decomposed to the point that she was invisible.) I tried unsuccessfully to cup the cockroach. I was so tired I quickly gave up, and miraculously fell asleep. I don’t even think I dreamt about the cockroach.
posted by Shelby at 9:52 AM
3 Comments:
Shelby, just so you know that I am reading each of your missives. I am really impressed. The stories are fascinating. I look forward to each installment!
Shelby
We run to the computer every evening to check if you have written any more. Love your stories.
Grandma and Grandpa
If you can get used to sleeping in a room with cockroaches, you can get used to anything.
Roger
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