Savoring

My welcome back into modern Western society was most memorable, thanks wholly to the hospitality and efforts of the Villies. The Villies are a remarkable family that hosted me for a night during my layover in Brussels and planned for me the ideally paced day full of savoring good things in life.

After big hugs at the train station, a charming drive through the cobblestone streets of Brussels led to a light lunch in the beautiful Villie abode. They are still in the process of making their beautiful home even more beautiful so the hot shower was out of commission. They had, however, arranged with a neighbor who was out of town so that I would not go without. It felt good. Really good.I had forgot how enjoyable a nice fresh breeze of non-muggy air is and Brussels did not disappoint. A walk to the park to kick around a soccer ball hit the spot nicely.

Where the Villie’s hospitality and French nationality really shine is at dinnertime. First there was a cold beer with an appetizer of shrimp with herb cream cheese on crackers, olives, and potato chips. The main course was a zucchini and eggplant gratin... ...with ricotta, baby spinach, and parmesan linguine. This was followed by a generous slice of goat’s cheese and homemade bread with a glass of red wine. Dessert was strawberry sauce and merangue sprinkled with almond slivers and chased down with a shot of homemade prune schnapps. An evening stroll through an old neighbourhood of Brussels capped off the perfect day. We even found a house that was built in the 1500’s!

An early breakfast, more hearty hugs, and a train ride to the airport commenced the next morning. Brussels airport is the very model of European efficiency. Security was a breeze except they confiscated my bottle of deodorant spray since it was 50ml over the limit. The fact that it was half empty didn’t seem to matter. I bought a ridiculously priced Starbucks latte, but I figured I could afford myself the luxury because it had been a while. After some delays the Swiss Air flight got underway and we were all served a delicious chocolate croissant. I think I am going to enjoy these next two weeks.

My most wonderful aunt Käthi met me at the Zurich airport. A scenic train ride later brought us to her home where I am sitting now, overlooking the farmland, trains whizzing by, and the Alps looming on the horizon.

I’m sure every person that lives away from home for a while talks about this, but I’m really starting to learn about all the things I’ve taken for granted. Hot showers are now a euphoric experience. Soft grass under bare feet is beautiful and you have no idea how thrilled I get to just feel a cool and crisp breeze. Being re-united with familiar smells is also very exciting. Please join me in savoring simple things this week.

Departures

It's that time in life again. The bittersweet goodbye. The emotion-filled farewell. The dramatic departure. I've been spending the last few days saying goodbye to the people and the geography. Final handshakes and hugs, final swims and surfs. I'm not ready to leave, but I am ready to go home. That's a confusing way of putting it, but it makes sense to me.

I'm sitting in the waiting room of Robertsfield Intl Airport after a car ride full of prayer. On my way to the waiting room I was padded down not once but twice and at least seven different officials flipped through my passport, trying to look important. The waiting room features unbareble metal chairs (no cushions) and a bunch of TVs showing CNN. It keeps on cutting in and out and the only time it was clear was for a news report about a dramatic plane crash.

In its defence, the waiting room is air-conditioned. I'm actually wearing a hoodie right now which is a unique and very welcome experience. This airport does have one other luxury. Free wireless! Out comes that MacBook, on goes my favorite Icelandic band, and presto! you get a blog post.

Next update will probably come from the handsome hills and pearly peaks of Switzerland, the land of milk and more milk. I get to mooch off relatives for two weeks before finally making it home.

Rainstorm

I spent most of today sitting inside and feeling sorry for myself. I had managed to develop a nasty head cold; the type where you go through a box of Kleenex in an hour and your head feels like a brick. I almost made it through the whole day being holed up indoors, but then when I was just fixing myself something to eat for dinner it started to rain and I forced myself to go outside and enjoy it.

I sat on that porch and watched the floodgates of heaven open up. The sun had just set and everything was still aglow with a crimson hue. As I watched the trees bend over from the wind and heard the thunder boom (like I have never heard before) I realized that my life is in the hands of someone so much greater then my little problems like a nasty head cold. How could any witness of such a great display of stunning raw power be miserable about trivial things?

I watched as a little girl walked by. You could tell she was 100% alive in that rain, alive in the way that only a thunderous storm can make you. She danced in that rain and she jumped in the puddles and she leapt with the thunder. As I watched I realized, on the eve of my birthday, that I don't ever want to grow up. I want to stumble through life wide-eyed and with my jaw hanging open. I want to live in a world where there is no such thing as commonplace, because I could recognize the miracle in even the smallest of events. I want to see every rainstorm not as a nuiscance, but as an adventure.

Beautiful Barca

I don't know if you are aware, because maybe it isn't a big deal where you are, but we are currently experiencing the final stages of the Champion's League. In Liberia that is a big deal. A very big deal. I have never followed football to a great extent before, but I felt that I'd better pick a side and inform myself a little if I were to survive in the football-crazy culture. I picked FC Barcelona because they are from Spain and because I really want to go there. When I found a Barca jersey in the market for 2 bucks, it sealed the deal. I was now a Barca fan. This meant that I was now best friends with half the town of Ganta and friendly enemies with the rest, who happen to mostly be Chelsea fans. All this football excitement came to a climax yesterday, when Barcelona faced Chelsea in the second leg of their semi-final match.

My good friend with the world's coolest name, Lansana Zomoway, gave me a ride on his motorbike to the town's main video club to watch the game. Now "video club" means a large shack (think wood planks nailed together / zinc roof / no windows) with lots of tightly packed wooden benches, and three suprisingly good TVs on the front. Now imagine that space filled with over a 100 large, sweaty men, packed shoulder to shoulder, screaming at the top of their lungs for an hour and a half.

Drogba and Essein seem to be favorites of the Liberian crowd, especially the latter who is from neighbouring Ghana. Whenever they so much as touched the ball things got pretty loud. Thanks to some confusing regulations all Barcelona needed for the win was a draw. However, Chelsea scored early on and then clung unto that one goal lead desperatly, pushing back wave after wave of Barca attack. Once in stoppage time it seemed like Barca's fate was sealed and the Chelsea fans were laying it on pretty thick. Then with one minute left, the unthinkable happened. They scored.

I checked "crazy" in the Thesarus to see if I could find a word to adequately describe the situation, but the English language fails me. 100 men jumping on top of each other in a space that was not built to hold 100 people.

Studio Time

Just in case you missed the memo, World Malaria Day was last Saturday. It probably wasn't a big thing in your local town, but in a country where malaria remains the number one killer such events have vast effects.

EQUIP Liberia, the NGO I'm volunteering with teamed up with some local artists here in Ganta to record a song about the best ways to prevent malaria. I got to tag along to the studio and watch the recording process unfold.

This is SoundCity, the only studio in Ganta. Its a rather new operation run by a 20-something guy who was trained in Sierra Leone and an older guy called Mohammed who, in his own words likes to "make music that sounds as bad as possible." He's quite a character.

Here's the studio set up.The actual recording room is probably smaller then you closet. The guy who runs the studio (I can't remember his name) is an absolute wizard, considering what he's got to work with. After hearing the song sung a few times he started plunking away at his MIDI keyboard and his computer and within the hour he had fixed up a African beat with accompaning piano and synth parts.

By the end of the day the song was recorded and mastered and by the next day it was already playing on four radio stations around the county. Here's the finished result: