Loving my little garden...

I am so NOT a photographer - so I do apologize to all the photo gurus who live for photography - in fact most of the time I just use my ol' cracked iphone 3G to take photos...I have been monitoring my little garden just to see all that happens each day..

Andrew brought this lily one day it was just a dried root he left on the ground, I finally put it in a planter and three weeks later VOILA! This elegant, gracious, lily blooms - absolutely brilliant

Under the lily, you can see Basil I grew from seed.
Quite the fusion garden,  eh?

I am having a few issues - one bed of sturdy looking tomato and squash plants completely yellowed and died within two weeks time - we feel the dirt had something to do with it - and hope that the rest of the plants in the other beds - will be strong!

The leaves of this tomato plant has something attacking it - but after consulting with the experts of Brambleberry Farm in Paoli, IN, I have learned there is nothing to worry about.

http://www.brambleberryfarm.org/

I have no idea the name of this tree/plant item - but if you have been following the garden this plant was one of many "dead sticks" that Andrew planted in the ground which now has come to life - and I am just utterly amazed at how this sturdy, African plant creates the tiniest, subtle yet absolutely stunning and intricate flowers.

Week 4- Just like anywhere else in the world....

As I celebrate week four living in Africa, I can't help but realize it is no different in some ways than any where else.

Racism, Prejudice, Office Politics, Relationship Issue, Meeting New People, Insecure Folks, Welcoming Folks, Bad Roads, Dirty Bars, trash on the street....please even Chicago and NYC, etc has roaches and rats, eh?

So we have no water - big woop! Water will get here eventually right?

So a quick note to say I made it this far - heading to Paynesville to work with Elfreda and Jola House and pick up some items.

I could not have made it this far without the support of my Family, my Friends, GOD, and of course Vamsi.

Living every day to the fullest!

Garden Update

The garden is moving along a little slower than I expected - just a teeny bit. Though I had a strong start, "growth" seems to be slowing down - lol. The tomatoes have sprouted and I am working in stages to test their durability in the sun and heat of the day. Mamie and Andrew want the tomatoes to succeed as much as I do - So we are tending to them like children. We have planted one tomato into the bed as a test. And after two days it seems to be ok. Time will tell.

Five Squash plants are now in the ground.

The squash are showing themselves to be quite hearty - we will see if they can stand the heat and sun - I am hoping that as they grow and spread they will help to create an energy in the garden that will welcome more plants.

Test Tomato in the bed.

The basil seems to be doing well and gaining self confidence. Andrew has transplanted some small shrubs and some are doing well and some are not.

Shrub Cutting Andrew planted 3 weeks past.

I asked Andrew why the yard has no grass and he said when no one was living here he got tired of tending to it so he just ripped it up - SIGH. I told him that was sad and so we are now watering the small patch of grass at the base of the palm tree and in just a few short days it has spread and turned emerald green - there is HOPE!

Patiently, I will wait for the beach grass to spread...

Tomorrow I head to the county for a meeting at Jola House so I will pick up some plants and bushes on my way back into town.

Soon enough my garden will be ready!

My new friend Larry.

So yesterday with Larry and his friend Garu was interesting. Lawrence being older,  and few friends in Monrovia tends to go out of his way to be dramatic….and to say he shouldn’t be driving is an understatement! He drives too slow, in the middle of the road, and does not look ahead so we found ourselves always sitting behind a taxi that gets pulled over. HE did take the time to show me a few sites, including a bar we have never been to, A  lagune beach – which is behind the Chinese Embassy Compound and quite lovely with a quiet lagoon-of course this was too close to town for my comfort – meaning too close to raw sewage – let alone a lagoon that traps the sewage! But definitely a place to try out in the future for sure.

As we traveled towards our destination ( I thought we were going to Kendeja Resort – a “resort” built by BET President and a cohort of African Americans after the war and the election of Ellen Johnson Sirleaf.) a random locally owned bar/café on the ocean somewhere “near” Kendeja. Well, fine – it is daylight and we are traveling with a Liberian friend, so surely we can’t get into too much trouble. As we travel the road to the airport (yes this is how you name roads in a war torn country) we get waved over by the police – and of course my stomach immediately turns. The police come over to the car and want to know who were where we came from and the like – this is how police folks secure bribes.

Larry and I became quick friends because we are both from NY, and even though he is a few decades my senior, a New Yorker is a New Yorker – of course sometimes I think I am Jewish which helped us to get along even further. Well needless to say Larry and I had little tolerance for such bribe techniques and we were quickly confused by the officer’s low comprehension for conversation. So we asked questions at the same time and we both feigned confusion – of course I was scared out of my mind – thinking how Vamsi is 8 hours away and if I mess up while he is gone: 1. I am on my own 2. He is not going to be happy.

We continue to ask the officer questions in return to his questions, “Where are we  from ? Now? Or our nationality? Or where we live? Or who we work for? (Of course, even though I am unemployed the standard response in these situations is nose in the air and speak the acronym USAID – this is how I swept through customs without even stopping my gait.

We could see that peppering the officer with questions was causing him a headache – ha! So upon seeing his weariness Larry then started to ask for directions – and even though I think the officer was still looking for a bribe – I gave a look of satisfaction and job well done to the officer, Larry gave a big ol dramatic why thank you so very much and pulled away – phew – now I really need a cocktail – but no we still had more to drive and Larry and his 4 x 4 skills were going to be put to use shortly.

Once we found the only “paved” road toward the ocean we realized this was the road to Kendeja – and Larry only knew that the bar we were looking for was nearby and we had to take one of the dirt alley’s between compounds and little huts to get to it – so after several attempts and Larry asking locals who had no idea what he was talking about – we finally found MYRTLE BEACH. Yes the bar café is called Myrtle beach – So in the compound we go – and driving through sand and hills it was beyond worrisome that Larry was going to flip the truck – and even though he was prompted by the security man to back in Larry of course pulled in – I knowing all along that surely we would be blocked later (I would come to find out I was right).

The parking lot is completely protected by a high wall – even higher than my own compound – and is quite large at least ¾ of an acre so I was very impressed – until I noticed the wild pheasants running about next to the burning trash heap – but c’est la vie, eh?

We enter the gate through the beach and PERFECTION! A few small palm leafed huts, tables, chairs and UMBRELLAS – not even the Lebanese owned popular expat locale Golden Beach has umbrellas – and even a dance floor, music, and CLEAN Bathrooms – so far so good. Even better was the lovely service from our waitress who could actually communicate with us – I was so pleased – and so excited – I ordered a bottle of wine – yes the very best in your cellar. And this fabulous Liberian owned establishment only serves the best, she brought me a chilled bottle of Carlo Rossi Chardonnay for $25! Hey, when in Rome…..

As a side note – when drinking at anyplace less than an “upscale” expat location, the rule is to only drink from unopened bottles – so in that case you even have to be careful with your water –you must immediately test the cap when the bottle arrives – because it is known that owners refill their bottles to save money. So my choice would have been beer – but as I tend not to drink beer (Local Liberian or Heinekin) – Lawrence and I agreed to share the bottle – lol.

All of a sudden I was transported to another world – here we sat with Liberians – in a safe wonderful quiet (no expats running about) setting, enjoying the surf, a casual conversation or two with other Liberians and the actually delightful bar food – I had fried chicken and chips for $5 – you can’t get that at an expat owned establishment – so I was super excited and it was super tasty – I thought I snapped a picture but somehow I did not – But I will back! I spoke with Sia, our server – I found out her schedule and told her I would return often only if she were here!

We spent a lazy afternoon, snacking, drinking, and conversation.

As we watched the sunset, we decided to leave as not wanting to drive after dark ( I was 100 percent for Larry not driving after dark!). We paid our bill and our respects to the owner and thanked everyone for their hospitality and promised our return.

Of course, as I knew, Larry had to jiggle the truck out of a very tight spot – once we escaped that near catastrophe, Larry wanted to take a  “short cut” he now remembered back to the main road – omg MISTAKE – Larry drove too fast so he wouldn’t get stuck in the sand and next thing we knew we were stuck in small circle of huts and trees, and a gaggle of children.

My fear was not that we would get hurt – my fear was that Larry was going to run over one of the children or even worse yet the well right behind us – I prayed very hard and Larry had to do a 250 point turn and the children looked OH SO confused running around with their brightly colored buckets jumping from the well pump – oh my goodness dear God protect these children from my crazy friend – then oh no out of nowhere a brood of chickens scattered followed by dogs – oh surely this was going to end badly – but no! By the grace of God and Larry’s experience – and probably my screaming from the back seat- we escaped hurting anyone or anything and finally made it back to the main road whence we come.

Driving back to town at sunset was long and slow – traffic was bumper to bumper as we live on Mamba Point and there is only one road to the peninsula – so we did finally and safely return – but of course by then I needed a cocktail.

It is not always a pleasant morning...

Today not so good.

Vamsi says I have more medicine than some
COUNTIES in Liberia.

For the past 24 hours I have been experiencing unpleasant abdominal indigestion, bowel movements and well just near diarrhea. I don’t think I am suffering from anything more than too much coffee, too much alcohol, a diet that is just not “regular,” and still recovering from Fridays exhausting journey. All that a little bit of nervous stress energy – which we all know I am prone to be a worrier when the worry virus takes over.

What’s to worry about – well little things seem big when you are already worrying LOL. So the “security” lights on the back of the house are out – and they won’t be replaced of course until Monday when “office hours” for the compound resume – I could surely make a stink – but then I would  be complaining on the weekend and that would lead to bad relations with the Lebanese management who were already here due to the cable being out and Mamie forgetting to tell them until after 6 on Friday – so they thought we were upset and came on SATURDAY morning which was embarrassing – because we really don’t care nor watch that much tv but just wanted it fixed for when we do – Mamie has been a source for many a miscommunication because she wants to properly “represent/advocate” on our behalf.

I have decided that this week I am going to bring an “interpreter” to the house so I can speak with Mamie about hygiene, priorities,  and external communication in general.

So surely, the lights are not big of a deal normally, except that I live in a fishbowl – and there is plenty of security and compound staff that mill about – and surely they are not trying to look in or listen and such – but surely they have free range – and it just is one sense of security that is now missing. It is even more uncomfortable because Vamsi left this morning for two nights and three days and well – A definitive sense of being alone – he may or may not be able to call as mobile phone reception is not all over the entire country – and as he travels to different counties he is extremely busy and of course exhausting. Traveling is not easy – I know this now from my simple trip to Bensenville – I can’t imagine traveling for 8/10 hours on these “roads” and then having to meet with your regional staff and the government staff.

So not returning until Tuesday evening will surely leave me with a sense of being on “high guard.”

That and this persistent stomach issue – of course there are so many “things” one can contract from so many “sources” that your mind circles when you are already not feeling well – Do I have worms (yes worms) we already know two other people who have suffered from worms. But I check my stool with utmost attention when feeling even the slightest upset stomach. This is the way of visiting Africa – and no, there is no vaccination for worms – you just do your best to drink bottled water and not eat any “fresh foods” from unknown sources.  Here at the house any vegetable or fruit is washed in a bleach and filtered water solution – even limes for my cocktails or soaked for five minutes. I walk around with wet ones and constantly disinfect anything that comes from a store. And when the tv repairman came afterwards I had to wipe everything, the remote, the door handles, the windows, to keep possible contamination as most folks don’t wash their hands.

How I wash fresh food

Of course there are other bacteria and micro organisms – and I do my best to avoid them – and I have plenty of medicine a closet really. But it is all so prohibitive –

Even making simple breakfast can be a chore – Though I procure eggs from the Lebanese supermarket and they are imported from Europe – they still need to be washed. The onion and tomatoes need to be soaked before sautéing. Oh then there is the actual gas stove – seems like a plus eh? Except you have to remember to put on shoes to light the stove because otherwise you will get shocked/mildly electrocuted. You think I would have learned by now – not to touch the stove LOL

Our secret weapon...

Yes the electric flow is not even nor grounded – so every time I light the stove I risk a few more nerve cells in my body – and to say the feeling is unpleasant…ah I don’t want to worry my friend Tommy Engel too much as he reads this to his mother.

But then it is time to light the stove to start breakfast and sigh – the power goes out. So now I sit and wait will be it five minutes? 20 minutes?

These are first world problems – but they do become exhausting – so I will nibble on fresh pineapple and some cold instant coffee in hopes that YES the power is back on and I run to the stove to light the burner before it goes out – and YES – I forgot to put on shoes and now my arm hurts and surely in a month I will have lost all the nerve cells in my right arm…

Sigh- so I will do my best to chin up, pray, know that I am in good hands, that all is right, that I am healthy, and this too shall pass. The new normal will become comforting soon enough.

Week 3 - Meeting The Bugs (FYI: No photos)

Was it too good to be true? You betcha!

So after two weeks of acclimating to the war torn cityscape, the pollution, the language, the limited access, the heat, the stench, did I mention the pollution - finally the bugs have come out of hiding to properly welcome me. And I trust a bigger welcome is on the way once rainy season is in full downpour mode!

Luckily, we arrived in the dry season of winter - so yes it is hot, dry, and dusty, but this keeps bugs like mosquitoes from trying to carry me away and party on my fresh blood like it is 1999!

Unluckily, there are still plenty of bugs! Of course, working in the garden, I am used to bugs, and ants etc... I have noticed the various ant lines throughout the yard, certainly the lizards would not be around if not for all the tasty morsels. That ants seemed "normal" enough small black. But, maybe I should have noticed their speed as they darted around on the sand and surfaces.....hmmmm.

So it wasn't until I was arm deep in dirt, sand, and weeds that my arms and hands started to itch. Thinking it was the sun and sand I worked on. Later, after my shower I realized my error - as I had little red bumps all over my arms clear up to my elbows... ahhh. A lovely welcome from the garden ants - surely I will be better tomorrow (when I SPRAY THE HECK OUT OF THE GARDEN, revenge can be sweet).

Then the little black spider crawling on my towel, hanging on the shower rod in the bathroom. Ah yes, little black spider, this is surely not my specialty, and I called in Dr. Vasireddy who proceeded to hunt down the little devil and beat the living $%^$ out of him. Another welcome that maybe I did not fully appreciate.

Of course the kitchen has a door so it can be isolated from the rest of the house which is good - because every night I put on my Orkin (TM) uniform and proceed to use enough bug spray to delouse the entire city of Monrovia. I know it works because a Friday morning a little fellow was under the cabinet with is little feet up in the air - ah good good. And that same day Mamie swept up a little lizard - which apparently means that my combinations of spray and voodoo are working. Vamsi, insists this spray does more harm to my nervous system than the bugs will ever do - HA - little does he know that's why I drink Tanqueray and Tonic every night - to prevent any harmful effects.

Of course, yesterday morning - things escalated and somehow I managed (by accident - yet maybe my subconscious had taken over) to move some pots around in the cupboard. In the morning I went t get a pan to make my breakfast - well attached to the bottom of my pan was quite a sight as half a "bug" was attached and the smell = the smell! AGAIN thank GOD for Mamie who arrived moments later and dealt with the whole situation - of course she had to explain everything to me even as I lay faint on the couch sipping water and thinking about all the options I have in my medicine closet to help me forget this moment - that will for ever be SEARED into my head - the stench of the city is sweet perfume compared to the smell of that bug - I pray for you, kind reader, that you never have nor will ever experience that smell.

Of course this experience, may pale to that of Vamsi's morning. As he rushed around to leave for work, he brought his messenger bag to the table to collect his laptop - as he opened the flap he found little white spider/ant bug thins teeming all over the interior of his bag - TEEMING. Both watched, incredulous of the image. I just watched as Vamsi started taking things out of his bag and laying them on the table. I finally snapped awake and said Vamsi take it outside OUTSIDE - and then he woke up and we both went into action - he raced outside to dissect his bag - and find the root or source of this evil - I ran for every form of bug spray we had - spraying myself on the way back to the front porch.mantle. On the front porch, Vamsi in his suit and tie, I in my pajamas fight the battle of the little white bugs - OMG - no screaming, no yelling, no time for prayer - just decisive action - removing articles from his bag, spraying each item and moving on . Finally Vamsi cleared his bag of all the little mutants and we sprayed his bag with a special "gear" spray. Oh yes we have sprays - SPRAYS - and yes dear kind reader, surely they are environmentally friendly - at least for THIS environment.

Of course, Monday night was the definitive evening of knowing I had to take better precaution against these Monrovian residents. Having a lovely dinner at Golden Beach with friends, we sit just a few yards from the ocean, watching the sun set, the roaring waves, the local kids flipping and jumping on the sand, when our friend Nancy yells, "Michael, pick your feet up out of the sand."  That's all I need to hear as I lift my feet and look below. There in the sand where I was digging my toes and feet in the sand, like on any beach is a CARPET OF BIG BLACK ANTS- A CARPET. Having hairy legs, the ants can surely make their way up my limbs and find it a cozy place to plant their little pinchers. Sigh, another margarita please, another margarita I order.

All this to say, its nice to be welcomed by all the residents of Liberia, it would not be the same if I lived here without such experiences. I have heard much worse from fellow expats - but they themselves have lived in Africa for so long that their diffidence on such experiences is shocking to me. Whilst the civil war here is over - I myself find that I am taking up arms to fight the battle against these combatants who do not realize there is a new Sheriff in town. I came all the way from American Midwest - and with me I bring a new sense of safety and security - surely a take no prisoner attitude is written across my face.

I do hope this is my last post regarding these combatant inhabitants - though I completely accept that it most likely will not.

My new normal - Morning

Just like Chicago I wake up every morning at 3:00am – even with ear plugs, eye mask, a comfortable bed, a/c, and Vamsi by my side I still wake up 3:00am tossing and turning maybe falling asleep, before Vamsi’s alarm at 7:l00am. I don’t know if I ever fall asleep and wake again – hard to tell time between 3:00am and 7:00am either way the new normal is to wake up congested, dry, and tired.

Unlike my Chicago home, which sits on the west side of Lake Michigan, allowing me to watch the sunrise every morning – allowing me to greet the day as the day greet meets me – allowing me to acknowledge my God – and wonder in God’s glory every time the color strikes the horizon marking morning – Here, we live on the east side of the Atlantic, meaning the sun does not reveal herself to me until late in the morning. She must first pass over the water side, she must pass over the central hill of Mamba Point, the tall coconut trees, that surround our compound and give it its namesake, the high walls, protecting us from the unknown, and she must burn of the marine haze that comes from living low and near the ocean. Similar to say, San Diego, the humidity is trapped in the evening, not only by the mountains, but by the cool air, creating a fog, a mist, a haze that must be burned off by the sun every morning.

But I have a new way to enjoy the morning – the crows of the resident rooster! Every morning  he proudly sings: Good Morning ! Good Morning! Like me, he is excited to see the imminent arrival of the sun, and potential for what the new day will bring to Coconut Plantation.

That is my wake up song – the song of the Rooster brings me peace and a feeling that all is normal at Coconut Plantation. I make my coffee and my egg sandwich just like home – my little bits of home/normalcy that I try to bring to my day. Usually at 6 or 7 I am busy writing – today I got a late start – sleeping until past seven, then remembering its Monday and I have to prepare for Mamie’s arrival. Yes, we have to prepare – we live in the house as if we sleep in separate beds – what may seem obvious to some is not obvious to Mamie – the less attention we bring to ourselves as a couple is best for all involved. On the days that Mamie arrives, especially Monday the beginning of the work week, there are preparations: Make sure “my bed” is unmade, remove my belongings from “Vamsi’s” bedroom, lock the “valuables” closet, take all the dirty dishes out of the fridge (yes yes we are that lazy), make a list to review with Mamie.

Already behind, I am trying to catch up, but then Vamsi rushes in to the dining room, plops his large messenger bag on the table to put his computer inside and when he opens the computer he finds his bag is teeming white spiders! I immediately rush Vamsi out the front door forcing the now infected dining room chair with him. While he dissects his bag, I run to fetch the bug spray made for clothes, luggage, tents, and the like. I return handing the bottle to Vamsi and he continues to deal with his issue I return to my coffee and writing.

Just another “normal” morning in Monrovia.

Well now Mamie is deep into dusting and sweeping, which means she turns off the a/c in order to keep the dust from flying around the walls, and opens all the blinds – turning my cool beach home into a warm, dry, dusty bin. Frustrated but not defeated, I pick up my water, coffee, laptop and head to the pool!

Sigh – well of course all the workers are out and about raking the sand, sweeping the road, sweeping pool side, creating more dust that can eventually carry on the breeze into all our homes, so that all the housekeepers have more to dust and sweep. Of course, I have learned to find the raking, of the gravel and grass, the metal scraping the hard sandy ground without any rhythm or pattern to be soothing – lets me know the compound staff is busy at work – and that I am not alone.

The new “normal.”