March 21, 2010
Robertsport, Liberia/ Monrovia, Liberia
We did our final pilot training session on Friday at the Robertsport vocational training center--the YEP (Youth Education Pack) center under NRC. While half of our group had taken the trainees to the local market to do a market assessment, I stayed behind to do some informal interviews with staff and students at the center. The tailoring class was packed, though I later gathered that not all the students in the room were tailoring students. I think some were just hanging out there to avoid the sun. The teacher was a thin weather-beaten man somewhere between 35 and 45 years old. Over his thin upper body hung a tie-dyed collared shirt. He told me the tie-dye class had made the fabric and he stitched the shirt for himself. He proudly showed off the clothing his students were working on, mostly dresses and pants for toddlers. When I admired the sewing machines, he lamented the fact that he only had 5 working machines for the 20 students in the class. The sewing machines were foot-pedal-powered. While most of the students were girls, he has two boys in his class.
The masonry students were cocky and boldly called two of us over to talk to them. They were hard at work building “a square”, as one laughingly told me. They construct house frames and other practice tasks each day and knock them down after so they can practice another one the next day. One flirtatious 16-year–old told me his father lives in Philadelphia. When I asked him why he’d chosen masonry as a vocation, he said it was easy to find a job, though not in Cape Mount (their county) so he’d have to leave the county to find work.
Over at the pastry class, a group of girls huddled around large mixing bowls making shortbread. They showed me the dye they use to color the cake yellow and everyone laughed when the bottle leaked and dyed my fingers bright yellow. When I again posed the question “why did you choose this vocation?” one girl told me it was “fast money” because they could bake bread or cakes and sell them that day. Another girl giggled and just said “I love pastry!”
The hairdressers had come back from their day at agriculture class. Each vocation takes agriculture class once a week and after class they have free time to hang out at the center. There is a large field next to the center where the youth learn to grow three types of cassava along with other vegetables. This is considered a core skill that they all learn along with literacy, numeracy and accounting. This center also offers classes in human rights and peace education, but we weren’t able to see any of those classes in action.
A little girl sitting with her mother, who is herself a young cosmetology student, stared at me for a moment and then asked, “Is that your real hair?” Pointing to the long braid down my back I told her yes, and looked up at the braids hanging posted on the wall, weaves to use in their classes. All the children of mothers in the vocational training programs had intricate hairstyles thanks to the plethora of aspiring hairdressers training there and looking for willing practice subjects.
The carpenters… well, they were a trip. I walked over the group of young men off to the side, working around a few sawhorses and piles of wood, hoping to snap a picture of the carpentry class for use in our video. The minute the guys saw me and my camera they started posing and demanded I photograph each of them with the table, or stool, or bench they’d made. They then proceeded to pose for me “in action”, sawing wood or hammering a nail. I now have about 30 photos of shirtless teenagers posing goofily with their tools. Boys are boys everywhere.
The day rounded out with a “cultural performance” including singing by some of the more outgoing and charismatic students, if not the most in-tune. Finally two boys stood up and sang/rapped a song about the NRC (“N-R-C, we pray for you, N-R-C, we pray for you….”) and ended it with the little 14-year-old dancing with Nora, which as usual made everyone’s day.
Gettin' Down in Vayetown
March 18, 2010
Monrovia, Liberia
The project is going well. Which is surprising me because our plans had seemed so spur-of-the-moment when we left New York despite months of planning. I’d had so many questions and doubts, most of which centered on whether we were capable of adding any value to the programs here in Liberia. What do we know about vocational training? About vocational training in Africa? In Liberia? What did we know about market assessments and even about training people here? The video was a rinky-dink production using borrowed cameras, poor lighting, no external mics, our team-members as actors, scripts written by us, and editing in a single 10-hour day by me and Nora. I was tempted to tell the rest of the group that we hadn’t been able to produce the video after all to avoid the embarrassment of showing it here.
But shockingly enough the training and the video and our written short guide have been a wildly popular activity here. And participants told us our hands-on activities were “fun”, “useful” and that they’d use them again in the future with the youth. Again, I’m still quite skeptical but the thing I’ve realized is how dedicated the staff are to the vocational training programs. And how committed the students are to learning vocations and to succeeding. And this means they want to learn. We’re welcomed more warmly that we could ever expect and every listens attentively, and waits patiently for us to finish a section to tell us that we’ve spoken waaaay too fast and they haven’t understood a word!
I’m inspired by the youth. Today, Charles, who is around 14 or 15 years old, remembered all of the steps of an interview in our role-play activity. He introduced himself to the staff member pretending to be a “Restaurant Manager” and took care to thank him at the end, shaking his hand. He's so motivated to succeed and listened to ever word today, synthesizing the information perfectly in the focus group later. Charles has a large scar, close to five inches on his neck and I can’t help but wonder about his past. What was his life like during the war? Is the scar and accident… or a wound inflicted by another human? What does Charles dream about at night?
On the drives each day to vocational training centers, we pass by over and over ruins of houses, with no roofs and half-walls. Many of them have families squatting in them or they’ve been converted into a corner store. We drive by billboards with text: “Grow the food you eat. Eat the food you grow” “Stop Rape” (with drawings of a man on top of a protesting woman and a large X through it) or “Use treated malaria nets.” The country knows what messages it needs to send to its citizens.
Today was a special day for me—I’ve made my mark in Liberia. Vayetown is a small remote village about 45 minutes drive on a pothole-riddled dirt road from Tubmanburg. The vocational training center there has mostly older students and I’ve leaped to the conclusion that this town was heavily hit in the war. This would account for why so many young adults have not attended school. (Only those not in the school system are eligible for the VT programs. This is an attempt to address the problem of the thousands of young people who missed years of schooling while living in refugee camps during the war.) Don’t worry, this isn’t the special part. That’s coming. We had a great training session, despite unexpected setbacks—the generator went out and we had to suspend our video showing and jump to a different section of the training until a new generator could be found. It’d also taken us an hour longer to arrive than we’d anticipated due to the poor condition of the roads. But the staff and students were receptive and I feel I can safely say we’ve left them with motivation to do a market assessment for their area and improve on their programs. At the end of our training, the director told us the students wanted to welcome us in their special way by performing traditional African dance. We certainly didn’t mind and while the 140 students from the entire center piled into their large classroom, drummers set up and the dancing began. First a group of four young women around 14 years old and later three young men of the same age. After the dance (which was amazing of course) we thank everyone, exchanged contacts information and took some photos. As we started to enter the car I couldn’t help but shake by booty a little bit and do a 2 second version of their dance and a few of the girls noticed and started laughing. Nora quickly joined in, and within seconds we had a large crowd and drummers materialized. We did our thang for a few minutes and judging by the faces of our onlookers in the photos, we’ve provided some laughable memories for the students for at least the next few months. My conclusion: My lack of shame was clearly a winning quality today.
Monrovia, Liberia
The project is going well. Which is surprising me because our plans had seemed so spur-of-the-moment when we left New York despite months of planning. I’d had so many questions and doubts, most of which centered on whether we were capable of adding any value to the programs here in Liberia. What do we know about vocational training? About vocational training in Africa? In Liberia? What did we know about market assessments and even about training people here? The video was a rinky-dink production using borrowed cameras, poor lighting, no external mics, our team-members as actors, scripts written by us, and editing in a single 10-hour day by me and Nora. I was tempted to tell the rest of the group that we hadn’t been able to produce the video after all to avoid the embarrassment of showing it here.
But shockingly enough the training and the video and our written short guide have been a wildly popular activity here. And participants told us our hands-on activities were “fun”, “useful” and that they’d use them again in the future with the youth. Again, I’m still quite skeptical but the thing I’ve realized is how dedicated the staff are to the vocational training programs. And how committed the students are to learning vocations and to succeeding. And this means they want to learn. We’re welcomed more warmly that we could ever expect and every listens attentively, and waits patiently for us to finish a section to tell us that we’ve spoken waaaay too fast and they haven’t understood a word!
I’m inspired by the youth. Today, Charles, who is around 14 or 15 years old, remembered all of the steps of an interview in our role-play activity. He introduced himself to the staff member pretending to be a “Restaurant Manager” and took care to thank him at the end, shaking his hand. He's so motivated to succeed and listened to ever word today, synthesizing the information perfectly in the focus group later. Charles has a large scar, close to five inches on his neck and I can’t help but wonder about his past. What was his life like during the war? Is the scar and accident… or a wound inflicted by another human? What does Charles dream about at night?
On the drives each day to vocational training centers, we pass by over and over ruins of houses, with no roofs and half-walls. Many of them have families squatting in them or they’ve been converted into a corner store. We drive by billboards with text: “Grow the food you eat. Eat the food you grow” “Stop Rape” (with drawings of a man on top of a protesting woman and a large X through it) or “Use treated malaria nets.” The country knows what messages it needs to send to its citizens.
Today was a special day for me—I’ve made my mark in Liberia. Vayetown is a small remote village about 45 minutes drive on a pothole-riddled dirt road from Tubmanburg. The vocational training center there has mostly older students and I’ve leaped to the conclusion that this town was heavily hit in the war. This would account for why so many young adults have not attended school. (Only those not in the school system are eligible for the VT programs. This is an attempt to address the problem of the thousands of young people who missed years of schooling while living in refugee camps during the war.) Don’t worry, this isn’t the special part. That’s coming. We had a great training session, despite unexpected setbacks—the generator went out and we had to suspend our video showing and jump to a different section of the training until a new generator could be found. It’d also taken us an hour longer to arrive than we’d anticipated due to the poor condition of the roads. But the staff and students were receptive and I feel I can safely say we’ve left them with motivation to do a market assessment for their area and improve on their programs. At the end of our training, the director told us the students wanted to welcome us in their special way by performing traditional African dance. We certainly didn’t mind and while the 140 students from the entire center piled into their large classroom, drummers set up and the dancing began. First a group of four young women around 14 years old and later three young men of the same age. After the dance (which was amazing of course) we thank everyone, exchanged contacts information and took some photos. As we started to enter the car I couldn’t help but shake by booty a little bit and do a 2 second version of their dance and a few of the girls noticed and started laughing. Nora quickly joined in, and within seconds we had a large crowd and drummers materialized. We did our thang for a few minutes and judging by the faces of our onlookers in the photos, we’ve provided some laughable memories for the students for at least the next few months. My conclusion: My lack of shame was clearly a winning quality today.
Only stray dogs pepe here
March 13, 2010, Monrovia, Liberia
What am I doing here?
As part of my capstone project for my Master’s Degree (International Affairs) along with a group of other students, I’m working for the Women’s Refugee Commission who in turn partners with the Norwegian Refugee Council (NRC) in Liberia. We’re working to make the “Market Assessment Toolkit for Vocational Training Providers and Youth” more user friendly. The Toolkit is a 130+ page manual for how to link VT programs with market assessment, thereby ensuring that the youth trained in various vocations actually exit the program are able to actually use the skills learned. For example, if a VT program trains all their youth to be carpenters and tailors and floods the market, not all those young people will earn a living in this way. But a market assessment might highlight the need for mechanics and opening up a new training program in mechanics could ensure that young people can get jobs. Our task is to make this Toolkit easier to use, through a training we’re developing that can be replicated by VT program staff, a shortened version of the Toolkit and instructional videos. We’ll be visiting four VT programs coordinated by the NRC in our time here and piloting our preliminary training tools, including some very embarrassing videos we’ve filmed and edited back in New York. That’s pretty much the deal. And if that seems confusing, it is. We’re still wrapping our head around the project. We’re also only in “the field” (i.e. Liberia) for two weeks, so we’d better use our time wisely.
Initial thoughts:
The streets are lined with people pretty much everywhere. Markets look like the pictures I’ve been downloading online for our videos. Next to the government ministries, people are hanging around, selling gum and fruit. I’m so used to traveling and working in other countries where most people don’t speak English or if they do, it’s only to me, not to each other, so sometimes I forget that the language they’re speaking is English. It’s also sometimes hard to understand because, as McNeil told us, “We drop letters. We speak quickly and don’t say the whole words.” McNeil is from Monrovia and has a permanent smile. He works for the NRC. I’m not sure if that’s how you spell “McNeil” or if that’s even his name because, as he told us, Liberians speak very fast and slur the words together. For now, he’ll be “McNeil” in my blog. When I asked McNeil if people danced a lot in Liberia (basically trying to get us an invitation to go dancing somewhere) he said “What?! What?! Hahahahaa”. He then launched into a monologue about how you can’t ask questions to Liberians, because they’ll only answer with a question. McNeil giggled for the next half hour we joined in. It’s impossible not to smile when around McNeil.
Outside of the NRC compound, there are words painted on a wall. Nora looked at it and said, “What does that say? ‘Only stray dogs…’ Oh!” Someone had written in blue paint, “Only stray dogs pepe here.” We all laughed, along with Fred, our NRC supervisor. Fred is from Uganda but has been living and working in Liberia for the past 4 years. Nora’d seen it written on a few different walls. I guess it’s a reminder for people not to pee on the wall? I’m thinking of adopting it as a new phrase that can mean anything from “That bar? I’m not going. Only stray dogs pepe there” to “My house is a mess. Only stray dogs pepe there.” An all-purpose phrase that can be adapted to any occasion.
The NRC compound seems lavish in comparison to the houses nearby. There is a pool in the middle and air conditioned buildings. But paint is cracking in a way that reminds one of the remains of luxury in Cuba… or the UNRWA buildings in Palestine. The NRC is settled amidst a herd of UN and NGO headquarters. The road there is an adventure in alphabet soup: UNICEF, UNFPA, IRC, NRC…
Our apartment building, which houses only expats, most of whom work at the NRC, contains large apartments with air conditioning and keeps us sealed off from the malaria-carrying mosquitoes. We even have a TV, and off-again-on-again wireless internet. The tall wall around our apartment building has barbed wire and sharp glass at it’s top, preventing intruders and there is a 24-hour guard. Across the street, people mill during the day and after dark outside a broken-down building, reminiscent of Detroit, selling water we’ve been warned against drinking and candy. There is a building curfew of midnight on weekdays and 2am on Saturdays. We’ve been told never to walk around after dark. From the 2nd floor of our building we can see the ocean but have also been warned against the beaches, both because of “crazy people” and an intense undertow which can pull you down even if you only wade up to your knees.
Lebanese people seem to run this town—at least as far as major businesses go. I opened up google on my computer and was confused then it came up in Arabic, wondering if it was detecting some setting from when I’d been working on my Arabic homework a week before, even though this didn’t really make sense. I clicked on the button to switch it to google English and saw that I’d been directed to www.google.com.lb, “Google Lebanon”. Fred told us that Lebanese families are the privileged class in Liberia and they own a lot of property in Monrovia, many apartment buildings, restaurants and hotels. We passed by Leela Café and Salaam Store. Most of the "white people" I’ve seen looked like they’re probably Lebanese—An interesting dynamic. I wonder if I’ll end up practicing my Arabic while in Liberia, quite unexpectedly.
On our ride from the airport to Monrovia last night with Sharif, who also works for the NRC, the radio announced that Charles Taylor’s wife had given birth to a baby girl that day. The commentator asked the informant, “So Charles Taylor has time to see his wife?” “Oh yes, he has all the freedoms of a regular person.” The commentator went on to ask more questions insinuating conjugal visits at which point all of us in the car started laughing, Sharif laughing the loudest. The informant assured the commentator that he would share with the Liberian people the name and birth weight of the child as soon as he found out more details. For some reason the commentator was intent on extracting this particular information. Sharif told us many people are happy that Taylor is in the Hague, but many others are not, because they enjoyed kickbacks during his regime and now, without these privileges they have a harder life and must find work. Others believe Taylor should be tried in court but are not happy he’s been taken to Europe for the trial.
It’s interesting to finally experience the type of market we’ve been talking about “observing” as part of the Toolkit. We marveled at the live giant snails being sold and the fish, dried and with their mouths locked in a bite onto their tails and sold in rings. We bought a mélange of fruits and vegetables to make a pasta sauce and will be trying some white half-tomato-half-potato-like vegetable tomorrow. One of my favorite things to do when away from home is try new foods, though I'll admit its led me to some "mistakes" at times (I'm referring to the cockroach I ate in Thailand). I’d brought along the video camera to shoot some footage for our market observation video and little kids and teenage boys came flocking to me, all willing to be in the video. Older women held their hands in front of their face, saying, no, not me. I felt like a tourist and wanted to call out “No, it’s for an actual project, I’m not just a tourist.”
My first thoughts: Liberia is hot, and very green and people wear colorful clothing with great style. Oh and you can buy Chucky, Bride of Chucky, Scary Movie and Scary Movie II all on one DVD for $5. And people seem nice so far. When I’ve been outside our apartment for more that 3 hours I’ll have more to report.
What am I doing here?
As part of my capstone project for my Master’s Degree (International Affairs) along with a group of other students, I’m working for the Women’s Refugee Commission who in turn partners with the Norwegian Refugee Council (NRC) in Liberia. We’re working to make the “Market Assessment Toolkit for Vocational Training Providers and Youth” more user friendly. The Toolkit is a 130+ page manual for how to link VT programs with market assessment, thereby ensuring that the youth trained in various vocations actually exit the program are able to actually use the skills learned. For example, if a VT program trains all their youth to be carpenters and tailors and floods the market, not all those young people will earn a living in this way. But a market assessment might highlight the need for mechanics and opening up a new training program in mechanics could ensure that young people can get jobs. Our task is to make this Toolkit easier to use, through a training we’re developing that can be replicated by VT program staff, a shortened version of the Toolkit and instructional videos. We’ll be visiting four VT programs coordinated by the NRC in our time here and piloting our preliminary training tools, including some very embarrassing videos we’ve filmed and edited back in New York. That’s pretty much the deal. And if that seems confusing, it is. We’re still wrapping our head around the project. We’re also only in “the field” (i.e. Liberia) for two weeks, so we’d better use our time wisely.
Initial thoughts:
The streets are lined with people pretty much everywhere. Markets look like the pictures I’ve been downloading online for our videos. Next to the government ministries, people are hanging around, selling gum and fruit. I’m so used to traveling and working in other countries where most people don’t speak English or if they do, it’s only to me, not to each other, so sometimes I forget that the language they’re speaking is English. It’s also sometimes hard to understand because, as McNeil told us, “We drop letters. We speak quickly and don’t say the whole words.” McNeil is from Monrovia and has a permanent smile. He works for the NRC. I’m not sure if that’s how you spell “McNeil” or if that’s even his name because, as he told us, Liberians speak very fast and slur the words together. For now, he’ll be “McNeil” in my blog. When I asked McNeil if people danced a lot in Liberia (basically trying to get us an invitation to go dancing somewhere) he said “What?! What?! Hahahahaa”. He then launched into a monologue about how you can’t ask questions to Liberians, because they’ll only answer with a question. McNeil giggled for the next half hour we joined in. It’s impossible not to smile when around McNeil.
Outside of the NRC compound, there are words painted on a wall. Nora looked at it and said, “What does that say? ‘Only stray dogs…’ Oh!” Someone had written in blue paint, “Only stray dogs pepe here.” We all laughed, along with Fred, our NRC supervisor. Fred is from Uganda but has been living and working in Liberia for the past 4 years. Nora’d seen it written on a few different walls. I guess it’s a reminder for people not to pee on the wall? I’m thinking of adopting it as a new phrase that can mean anything from “That bar? I’m not going. Only stray dogs pepe there” to “My house is a mess. Only stray dogs pepe there.” An all-purpose phrase that can be adapted to any occasion.
The NRC compound seems lavish in comparison to the houses nearby. There is a pool in the middle and air conditioned buildings. But paint is cracking in a way that reminds one of the remains of luxury in Cuba… or the UNRWA buildings in Palestine. The NRC is settled amidst a herd of UN and NGO headquarters. The road there is an adventure in alphabet soup: UNICEF, UNFPA, IRC, NRC…
Our apartment building, which houses only expats, most of whom work at the NRC, contains large apartments with air conditioning and keeps us sealed off from the malaria-carrying mosquitoes. We even have a TV, and off-again-on-again wireless internet. The tall wall around our apartment building has barbed wire and sharp glass at it’s top, preventing intruders and there is a 24-hour guard. Across the street, people mill during the day and after dark outside a broken-down building, reminiscent of Detroit, selling water we’ve been warned against drinking and candy. There is a building curfew of midnight on weekdays and 2am on Saturdays. We’ve been told never to walk around after dark. From the 2nd floor of our building we can see the ocean but have also been warned against the beaches, both because of “crazy people” and an intense undertow which can pull you down even if you only wade up to your knees.
Lebanese people seem to run this town—at least as far as major businesses go. I opened up google on my computer and was confused then it came up in Arabic, wondering if it was detecting some setting from when I’d been working on my Arabic homework a week before, even though this didn’t really make sense. I clicked on the button to switch it to google English and saw that I’d been directed to www.google.com.lb, “Google Lebanon”. Fred told us that Lebanese families are the privileged class in Liberia and they own a lot of property in Monrovia, many apartment buildings, restaurants and hotels. We passed by Leela Café and Salaam Store. Most of the "white people" I’ve seen looked like they’re probably Lebanese—An interesting dynamic. I wonder if I’ll end up practicing my Arabic while in Liberia, quite unexpectedly.
On our ride from the airport to Monrovia last night with Sharif, who also works for the NRC, the radio announced that Charles Taylor’s wife had given birth to a baby girl that day. The commentator asked the informant, “So Charles Taylor has time to see his wife?” “Oh yes, he has all the freedoms of a regular person.” The commentator went on to ask more questions insinuating conjugal visits at which point all of us in the car started laughing, Sharif laughing the loudest. The informant assured the commentator that he would share with the Liberian people the name and birth weight of the child as soon as he found out more details. For some reason the commentator was intent on extracting this particular information. Sharif told us many people are happy that Taylor is in the Hague, but many others are not, because they enjoyed kickbacks during his regime and now, without these privileges they have a harder life and must find work. Others believe Taylor should be tried in court but are not happy he’s been taken to Europe for the trial.
It’s interesting to finally experience the type of market we’ve been talking about “observing” as part of the Toolkit. We marveled at the live giant snails being sold and the fish, dried and with their mouths locked in a bite onto their tails and sold in rings. We bought a mélange of fruits and vegetables to make a pasta sauce and will be trying some white half-tomato-half-potato-like vegetable tomorrow. One of my favorite things to do when away from home is try new foods, though I'll admit its led me to some "mistakes" at times (I'm referring to the cockroach I ate in Thailand). I’d brought along the video camera to shoot some footage for our market observation video and little kids and teenage boys came flocking to me, all willing to be in the video. Older women held their hands in front of their face, saying, no, not me. I felt like a tourist and wanted to call out “No, it’s for an actual project, I’m not just a tourist.”
My first thoughts: Liberia is hot, and very green and people wear colorful clothing with great style. Oh and you can buy Chucky, Bride of Chucky, Scary Movie and Scary Movie II all on one DVD for $5. And people seem nice so far. When I’ve been outside our apartment for more that 3 hours I’ll have more to report.
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