|
Included in this section are short excerpts from my travel journal while I worked in Cambodia and Sierra Leone , 2003. Reading about the effects of war and witnessing it first hand are incomparable. It is with great respect to the strength and survival instincts of the human spirit that I share these excerpts with you.
Cambodia
Sierra Leone
On Route
The Korean stewardess's final on board address offers "Peace be with you in this holiday season " I'm on a short stop in Korea on my way to Cambodia . Last time I was in Seoul was in January 2001 with the Gun Sculpture exhibit. The meaning of the holiday words have power?Koreans know how precious peace is.
Cambodian-Thai Border- Overland Dec 28, 2002
What a culture shock.! Going overland across the Thai−Cambodia border is an experience no one should miss?It's a smack of reality?. After all of my years of traveling I still was unprepared for the absolute poverty. Working and begging children everywhere. 5year olds carrying newborns wrapped in ragged and filthy shawls. Heat, dust and an apocalyptic parade of pieced together vehicles of transport filled the border town. Landmine victims are abundant. My son, eyes wide open, but forever the optimist, said "cool, did you see the cart powered by the guy using his hands instead of feet?" ?he hadn't realized the man had no feet?that he was a victim of a landmine.
The effects of war were everywhere…poverty, malnutrition, maimed people….a human tragedy draped across a border town backdrop of commerce and to add to the surreal image − two immense and opulent casinos inviting visitors to "make a killing."
Beauty of Cambodia , January 3, 2003
Said good-bye to my family today, they are back to Canada − and I head to PP. Our 7 days together in Siem Reap has been beaucolic. Angkor Watt is a sculptors dream - miles and miles of the most sensational and impressive ancient architecture and carving. Cambodia is really very beautiful. The people stunning with their beautiful smiles
Arrived Phnom Penn 12 noon , Sat, January 4, 2003
I can't help it?I feel so depressed by the destruction ?.It must have been a beautiful city ?once. It feels so different from Siem Reap. Now PP is being rebuilt, construction is everywhere..? what a waste?what a waste war inflicts, and at what a cost. So much of Cambodia 's infrastructure was brutalized and ruined?the battered architecture feels to me like a metaphor for the nation and it's people.
I feel really out of my element….me the world traveler……I should have a better handle on this…but PP feels dangerous to me….It feels close to the edge and I'd better keep my guard up. …Maybe I'm just tired and I've heard too many bad stories….
Chickens − on my journey to PP
There was a ragged hen with four chicks pecking at insects on the dusty road. There were bits of garbage − plastic bottles, coconut husks, paper, and animal feces - everywhere. How could the young chicks survive the filth? How could they look relatively healthy? It's amazing to me how little we need to survive.
Poverty January 5
I look at the real poor on the streets. They have so very little…clothes that they wear, a small plastic sack of possessions…and yet they survive. The question is − at what cost? At what cost to the community, to their own health, to their joy, the cost of not being educated, the cost of the future of their children?
First Impressions PP, Jan 7, 2003
What do I really see? I've been in PP four days. I know my first impressions: - heat, dust and poverty. After a few more days − I know of a massive building surge - of numerous colonial mansions and buildings undergoing renovations; of an array of excellent restaurants fueled by the vast presence of NGOs, of NGO aid signage everywhere.
But what else? The people…they smile, they are very polite. Many of them work 12 hour days, huge numbers of unemployed hang out on the streets all day. Children work…..hard. Not many people are obviously aggressive- neither the stall keepers nor the beggars. PP is congested − with people and vehicles − motor bikes (with 1 to 4 passengers on the seat). It makes crossing the road a lottery for life. Stalls are open morning to late night. A city that doesn't sleep.
What does privilege mean? 8PM Jan 7 th
I sit on my hotel balcony sipping a cold gin and tonic. Sweat trickles down my back leaving a dark stain on my silk blouse. No matter − free laundry comes with the apartment.
Cambodia is filled with people in privileged positions − conflict fuels profit as well as poverty. Many locals have "done well", many NGO's have become industries on the back of war.
January 9, 2003 , Arts and Culture
Ingrid is quite lovely − and very overworked…perhaps close to the crash point. She first came to Cambodia to do a doctorate and, like many, was compelled to stay to help with the rebuilding. She works with an NGO, promoting a rejuvenation of the professional arts in Cambodia . Artists were one of the first targeted groups for the Khmer Rouge to execute − and only a few survived. Cambodia is a country that reveres its artists and culture. In a country still in survival mode grooming and replacing the professional artists is a massive need and challenge. But if it's not achieved − part of their identity will be lost- and along with that?.respect and history.
I bought a book about a local artist- Svay Ken. A really good µ self taught artist, a natural storyteller. The staff said most foreigners didn't like the work or the book very much − they wanted to purchase books more to do with a Khmer Rouge angle. How does a country emerge from the mantle of war − and be allowed to rebuild normalcy? The problem is - normalcy does not generate funding and Cambodia still needs massive support. Catch 22.
January 10. Morality
Over the last week , I've been meeting with a variety of people −(teachers, journalist, artists, businesswomen, diplomats, aid workers and directors of agencies). There is a curious divergence of opinions about the health of the Cambodian society.
I'm rereading Cambodia by Henry Kamm −quite a few of his observations are re-enforced in my interviews with foreigners living in PP. One of the most disturbing and chilling areas mentioned is the breakdown of traditional morality and the gloomy prediction of the years (and generations) it will take to rescue and reconstruct a civil foundation. How do people return to a responsible community structure − when absolute survival has been the only code for so long? As a short-term visitor − it isn't an obvious problem to spot ?but aid workers and some of the locals expressed sadness and frustration at the lack of neighbour support (dog eat dog environment) , the considerable domestic violence and the abhorrent and continuing sale of children into slavery.
How do you learn to trust again? To trust that there will be food to eat, that no one will take your house, that no one is spying on you, that your children will be alive tomorrow? What effect do years of terror and the stripping of all basic human rights have on a community? How does fear, exhaustion, and hunger effect your spirit? How does it effect the way you bring up your children?
Educated Cambodians, on the whole, are sick to death about the issue of morality. Their precious country has been minutely dissected under a microscope. They have had to rely on long-term foreign help (and interference) to survive and rebuild. They are incensed that foreigners continually label their society as immoral - that everyone who experienced the brutality and deprivation of the Khmer Rouge is permanently morally damaged.
I don't know. It's so complex and difficult to access − I just don't know
After interviewing so many women, I can't imagine going through what they did without having my body and soul deeply traumatized. I don't know how I would react to the post war poverty and the struggle to re-establish my family situation. Could I trust and could I share the little I had? Would I have the energy or the belief in the future to help others?
Many of the women I met (Sous Man, Chea Vanath, Chan Sok Loung in particular) were inspirational examples of moral strength and dedication. Against mountainous odds − they are triumphing and making a mark. Amazing women - they are the ones creating Cambodia 's future. With people and energy like this − I can't help but think that the future is positive and that the women of the country will only get stronger.
January 10, 2003 , War
War takes a bloody long time to recover from.
Escape, January 11
Last night I wanted to run away. I would have done anything to not work on my project. I couldn't sleep…all I could think of - is why did I think I could make a difference? − How could I believe that I could really communicate the women's experiences? Real issues, real people, real effects. Real insecurity?? Really daunting.
Trying to escape from my thoughts − (and the interviews of the day) I watched a movie − some Hollywood dribble. In the middle of the movie − I got a heavy anxiety attack. I was completely disorientated. I couldn't grasp where I was..I had to go out on the balcony,-- feel the heat of the night, hear the noise, look down on the street and see the people. I am desperate to feel anchored?but the longer I stay the more tenuous and ungrounded I feel. The issues I'm researching are so very complex here. Sitting in the air-conditioned room with Hollywood on the screen seemed to sever the fragile thread I thought I had on Cambodia .
I've just reread the last few pages- I don't recognize myself. I'm the grounded, unflappable one- aren't I?
Jan 13, Interview with Chin Sar and Chin Run
Socheath (my young, intelligent and lovely female interpreter) and I conducted our first interview. We simply walked down the Riverside and asked a 55-year-old lotus vendor named Chin Run if she would talk to us. I set up my equipment and we sat beside a Buddhist temple on a couple of grubby mats. (I was going to sit on the ground but she politely insisted on the mat). Her story is too familiar. A poor woman who before Pol Pot times had, with her scrap merchant husband, managed to feed and keep her family − After − just survival and misery. She now ekes out a living by selling incense and lotus flowers beside a Pagoda. During the war she was separated from her husband. She still does not know if he is alive or dead. She was left with a 3 month old baby and two other young children. She spent her time under Pol Pot on forced farming and carrying human excrement to fertilize the fields. She secretly collected and smoked worms to feed her children to try to keep them alive.(you get one warning , second time you are executed for hoarding "food") At the end of the interview she said about her life "I don't talk about my story, if I talk about my story − it's so full of sorrow. I cry but there are no tears, so much sorrow. We are poor, but we (her mother and herself) have to take care of the children. I hear my husband may be alive, but he never comes back, we must look after the children by ourselves"
One of the questions I asked was "what makes you happy?" her reply" Happy? If you have something ? maybe?but I am so poor, so how can I be happy? Nothing to eat,?if I have morning food, I don't have enough in the evening. If I have evening food I don't have enough in the morning." Happy is not part of her vocabulary.
We also interviewed her 77 year old mother, Chin Sar?..
She started her story by telling us "It's so difficult, they took everything, only left me my body. They leave me without my children. (children over 6 were usually forcibly removed from their parents). Chin Sar was reunited with her children after the Khmer Rouge fell. But her children are also poor so she still has to take care of herself. "Now I do nothing- just cleaning the pagoda yard. I get help from the monks (she's allowed to sleep in the pagoda) and I sell things. I make 100 to 200 Riels (100 = 5cents) a day to buy things to eat". I asked her if she had hope for the future. She replied, " I hope just to live,. to just survive, to have just enough to survive. I don't want more than that because I am old".
After the interview, Socheath and I sat on the river wall organizing my audio and video equipment. Chin Sar came up to me with a gift of Lotus pods (delicious green seeds − a litlle like fresh peas). She beamed a broad and contagious smile. Her luck had never been so good. She was referring to the $2 US gift of appreciation (about 2 weeks earnings) I had given her after the interview. Luck was everything and today was her luckiest of days.
January 14, Future?
To many here the concept of future doesn't exist. It is not a Buddhist concept. Karma and luck seem to dominate. Is it harder to rebuild when the present is the chosen moment?
January 17 − early, PP − Who Are You?
PP is two cities. One that is dusty, roads in disrepair, garbage in the street, laundry drying in front of shops, street markets, hawkers, mangy dogs lolling in the heat, people everywhere -standing or sitting and talking or working − carrying heavy sacks on their heads. The words "toil" and "acceptance" come to mind.
The other city is clean with paved streets; an abundance of good restaurants, vast opulent villas, and markets filled with colourful silk, silver and gold, air-conditioned shops with designer goods and luxury cars. This is the world of the small wealthy class and the visiting NGO's.
Depending where you go or stay − you could almost forget the other exists.
January 17 − 6 PM − The Onion
Veils, veils, veils….all I find is veils. It's like peeling an onion − the layers are unending. I think I understand and then another layer appears. It's not just me − every foreigner I meet, empathizes with my confusion - they have the same dilemma − they have just learned to live with it.
January 18 −Democracy.
Cambodia is trying for democracy?or at least that is the current ideology expected of them. In thirty years they have had everything from royal rule to extreme communism (brutal slavery in my view). Can they achieve a real democratic state? Most of the poor women I interviewed didn't really understand what democracy means. A seasoned journalist (30 years covering Cambodia ) commented, "that until people are making $1000 a month there would be no true democracy". It's as much to do with stemming corruption and exploitation - as in promoting understanding.
Feb 4th Back in Canada
What a dramatic change − no more dust, rice paddies, wonderful fruit markets, no oppressive heat, no more brushing my teeth with bottled water no more wide beautiful Cambodian smiles. Instead −I find - snow and cold, supermarkets and drinkable water, and an overall comforting feeling of safety. Life is more predicable here − it makes the belief in tomorrow so easy.
"How-dee boh-dee ….mon?" One of the first greetings I experienced upon landing in Sierra Leone . Not that I could understand what the porter was saying. Eventually I would figure out to say back, "we boh-dee fine".
April 5, 2003 − Night Arrival
Anyone who conducts off site research and suggests that they understand a country that has been through conflict should visit Sierra Leone . There is no way a westerner can comprehend a war torn country until you're inside it. Until you breathe the air, see the destruction, feel the desperation of the people and witness first hand the human spirit's ability to survive against incredible odds.- until then it is all theory.
I landed at Lungi airport at night and was immediately swamped with porters who managed to clean me out of all my small American $ bills in short order (I had no idea of the going rate). I was relieved of my pocket cash but in exchange I was put on the right helicopter to the right heliport (near the Mammy Yoko Hotel ), - a coup after a long flight and a disorienting night entrance.
My host, Father Momoh , the round and likeable director of CAW (Children Affected by War) met me at the heliport and whisked me away to Samuels Guesthouse on the east side of Freetown.
Samuel's is a modest and friendly guesthouse on the East side − the side of Freetown first invaded by the Junta on January 6, 1999 in "Operation No Living Thing." The better hotels, banks and businesses are on the West side. Other than West Africans − it is rare to meet another foreigner here. Light skin seems to stay on the West side of town or in the hills. Staying here is a good way to visit Sierra Leone − you either sink or swim − there is no easy reach to western comforts or company. The issues that confront you here are so difficult − given the opportunity to hide from them − the inclination would be to take the easy way out.
Walking down Ross road (where the guesthouse is) − you definitely know you are in Freetown . A white woman walking down a busy east end street is an odd duck. I stand out like a beacon. White women are only seen in cars on this side of town. Why on earth would I be walking in the heat? Where am I going? The stares are suspicious. Unlike Cambodia − people do not smile at strangers. It makes the walk a slightly unnerving experience. I'm not going to stop walking though − it's the way I ground myself to a place?it's the beginning of understanding.
April 5 − Now and then.
"The only way to solve our economic problems is to have a war," I was told that this was a very common statement in Sierra Leone before the rebel war. They had one - and at what a cost.
April 5th Freetown
White United Nation SUVs and trucks stream past, a myriad of NGO vehicles with their logos emblazoned on their sides, a few private cars and motor bikes and a seemingly endless round of diesel trucks, blasting horns and blaring music. The congestion in the stop start traffic is thick and choking. London has nothing on Freetown . It took an hour to go a few miles this morning. CAW has organized the rental of a car and driver for me. The driver, Mr Sesay, is like the best drivers all over the world − efficient and a font of knowledge. He was introduced to me as Mr. Sesay but he soon asked me to call him "African Mon" ?a name that came from being recognized as knowing every bit of Sierra Leone and he was proud of it. He's a likeable character.
Met with Arch bishop Ganda this morning. Since I still can't quite understand Father Momoh's accent I didn't twig that I was going to meet the archbishop until I was in his office and encouraged to have my interview. A bit of a shock − but it turned out to be a very interesting hour. Ganda is a fiery, articulate individual who does not hold back his opinions. Among topics discussed was the issue of how foreign NGOs work with local groups. The related politics and power of the aid industry is frightening. It's the same story as I heard in Cambodia .
April 7, Child Combatants
Today I interviewed two ex child combatants that CAW had help reintegrate into the community. The first interview was with a boy who was training to be a car mechanic. It went OK but was complicated by the interview environment. Right from the beginning we were surrounded by the boy's co-workers. They were aggressively jealous that he was being interviewed and their own stories were not being heard − it was a bit hard to keep his full attention − and I don't know how much of his story he held back. Still - a glimpse at his past and present life was a shot of chilling reality.
The second interview was more informative and deeply sad. Rebels had abducted the young man at the age of 7 or 8yr. He first became a porter and a spy for the rebels. By the age of 9 he was carrying an AK47 and learning to shoot, by 10 he was a soldier. His story was told quietly in response to questions by CAW's research and field officer Mr Abu. He told of horrors that included killing, maiming and ritual cannibalism. From the age of 8 on he was continually given drugs − mainly cocaine and weed but he thinks there could have been others. He told of alcohol and drug parties after raids. He calmly talked about amputating limbs.
He rarely looked my way.
I wondered if a child, kidnapped at 7 had the basis to judge right from wrong so I asked him if he understood at the time that he was doing something wrong. He answered, yes he knew, but others who had refused were shot in the head so he had no choice. It was simple survival and chopping off limbs got easier as time went on. He lived with the rebels and Junta for 9 years. He's now 19, married with two children (he met his wife at a reintegration centre). He's started up his own woodworking shop and is positive about the future. He still suffers from nightmares
April 8 Impressions
If I thought I was confused in Cambodia ….Sierra Leone is on another level. My first impression of Freetown was of a poor, overcrowded, hot African city….but after awhile I noticed how many amputees there are and how many building and amenities have been destroyed. You learn that electricity is a luxury − as is running water. You start sensing the desperation and the fragile hold on survival, the embedded fear. And everywhere you look you see children working and working hard through long hours, many of them with distended bellies. Starvation is not apparent but malnutrition is.
April 10, UN
They are everywhere − I heard that there are still 15,000 UN troops in SL. All the country roads have bunkered checkpoints on them. I haven't been allowed to photograph any installations or soldiers − everyone is so skittish about being identified. It reminds one how recent the war was and how fragile the peace
April 15 My African Name - Fanta
Abu Juma asked me "what would I like to drink? "Fanta please" I replied. He passed me a cold pop. Juma paused and murmured, "Fanta ? mmm…I think that will be your African name…. Fanta − a refreshing woman" From there after I was Fanta, −not Sandra or Sarah or Susan (all the names somehow assigned to me) but Fanta - It made everyone laugh when I was introduced ..that I should have an African name!
Thurs April 15 Journey to Bunthe Island - HOT
What a day. 40 plus Centigrade. How-dee boh-dee?….dee boh-dee HOT (I chose to visit in the hottest month of the year − not smart) We left Freetown early and took the road to Bo. A couple of hours in we took a side road…(now I know why we need a four wheel drive). The gravel road gave way to a once paved, but now jaw breaking trail, eventually turning into a grassed two-wheel track. On the way we stopped at local missions and schoolhouse in villages called Moyamba, Monkangi and Moriba. Father Momoh is obviously well liked in the villages − everyone greets him warmly and is pleased to see him. I receive a warm welcome too.
The further away from Freetown , the friendlier the people become. I'm starting to relax and enjoy myself. I have taken about 30 pictures today − everyone wants a "snap snap" 4 hours away from Freetown we reach Yajoi − a small seaside village and our point of departure. After 2 hours in an open boat (continually being emptied of water) we reached Bunthe Dock. Spectacular scenery
April 15 Evening − Bunthe Is − Catholic Mission
Bunthe was once a thriving agricultural and resort centre. Now the docks are in ruin, the resorts closed and the people living a meager standard of subsistence. Luckily most can grow enough to feed themselves.
We are staying at the Catholic Mission House. I have been given what once was (that term again) a beautiful room. It's a large room with a front sitting area and a bedroom area with two 4 poster iron beds and a bathroom with toilet and a concrete shower. The beds are covered with a beautiful blue tie-dye sheets that doesn't quite mask the mustiness of the ancient mattress and pillows. Buckets of water are carried in for a "scoop" shower and to freshen the toilet (running water disappeared long ago). There are light bulbs but rarely electricity. I think they tried to start up an ancient generator in my honour − but it only worked for 10 minutes and quit. I'm learning to write by candlelight.
Tonight - talked with Father Momoh for hours about the numerous challenges that Sierra Leon faces. I'm really enjoying spending time with him − he's very intelligent, insightful and has a slightly rye sense of humour. Stimulating company.
April 16, War Criminals
Bunthe Island is also famous/infamous for its prison for war criminals. Some of the worst beasts of the war sit peacefully in a newly built prison (the only place on the island I saw with electricity and running water) guarded by crack UN Nepalese troops. Today I met with the head of security for the prison - a Canadian called Jeff K (he's sensitive about being identified). We talked and walked around the perimeter of the specially designed blue and white prison. I don't know how effective the war court will be …there's still a lot of unanswered questions….− but as I walked outside the razor wire fence I could feel this must be history in the making.
The trying of war criminals is a very touchy subject here …everyone has something to say about it − and the opinions differ. Many think more criminals should be charged for the atrocities (only 5 are presently in prison), just as many people feel that the peace is still so fragile that by telling the horrors publicly they will inflame people (from both sides of the conflict) and it may cause more conflict. I don't know how reconciliation takes place after the stories I have heard. Could I forgive? Most say that they can forgive but not forget??I'm amazed if they really can truly forgive.
Visiting here makes you realize how fragile peace is.
April 16 Secret Society
On my way thru Bunthe town to an evening interview I met a group of about 30 young girls (8- 12 yrs old) and a few boys. They were singing and dancing − and laughing. Many of them were painted white and dressed in their mum's clothes. They swarmed around me dancing and singing the traditional initiation songs - hoping to be videoed. The young girls were pretending that they had already gone through the initiation ceremony (culminating in circumcision or what many called female genital mutilation). The cutting ceremony isn't what they were focusing on (do they even know about it?) − It's the celebration of the child becoming a full-fledged adult and member of the secrete society. It's a huge jump in position and respect.
Traditionally a child does not have many rights until they go through the initiation rites. The rites used to include training of the girl in the arts of womanhood − growing and preparing food, taking care of the house and family as well going through circumcision. In an odd response to western criticism of initiation− they have started to limit the rituals…with less and less training of the girls and a shortened initiation version that sometimes only includes the circumcision and celebration. Figures I've read say that 80 % of SL girls are circumcised. A MSF nurse explained to me on how it's done…I won't repeat the gruesome procedure…needless to say hygiene and pain control are not paramount, infection and ongoing health problems are too common. I've yet to understand any reasons for this act other than control.
April 16 Interview with Cecilia
Cecilia is 77 yrs old and for the last 6 years has lived a hard and bitter life. Before the Junta came - her son was an important government official and she lived in a well-kept house in Bunthe town. The Junta invaded Bunthe and her son fled to her house for protection. The junta pulled him from his hiding place and dragged him into the open field across from the house. Cecelia was brought along side of her son. She was made to watch as they slit him open. They then cut out his still beating heart and made her hold onto it. The final obscene act was to cut off his head and put it in her lap with the statement that she could now suckle her son once more. Atrocities - as should never happen.
I don't have an identity when I listen to these stories…I don't know where to put the horror or sadness for the human race.
The junta destroyed Cecilia's house and warned the townspeople to not assist her. Mr. and Mrs French disobeyed the soldiers and allowed Cecelia (to this day) to sleep in a small out room of their house. She's still fighting for compensation for her suffering and poverty.
April 17 Language − Krio −(English based Creole)− came with the slaves
Krio is such a great language − full of surprises and expressions like gladi-gladi for happy or chop for food. It took me a week to figure out that bef was not beef but was any type of meat. You can have cow-bef , chicken-bef, goat-bef, sheep-bef?pig bef?so if someone offers you " bef " you have no idea what you are getting?all you know is that it will be protein and in a stew.
April 17 - Food
Breakfast − fish stew again…..what would my kids say?
April 21, Bo Town, Chickens and Cobras,
While on a visit to CAUSE Canada 's women and girls workshop in Manon village the subject of chickens came up at lunch. While we ate from a delicious communal platter of chicken stew and country rice, a plump mama chicken, surrounded by multi coloured chicks, scrambled to peck dropped grains of rice. Hanna (the cook and host) mentioned that she was going to have to lock up the chickens inside her house instead of in the chicken coop (a ram shackled construction of woven mats and sticks) at night. She had had a few chickens disappear. "What was getting them"? I asked. "A Snake", she replied. "I think it is a cobra".
In my country it's the fox or coyotes in the hen house. Through the haze of heat it wakens a simple realization?.yes, I really am in Africa .
April 22, Diamonds and Children
Diamonds and amputation?normally they don't seem to go together?but here in Sierra Leone they do. The power and greed that came from controlling the diamond fields, had a direct link to the continuing brutality of the civil war. They have been tagged as blood diamonds.
Today we met Shika, a young boy of nine. He was stunted for his age. He stood about 4" above my elbow (I'm 5' 3). A massive bulge sat on his stomach - the result of a crude attempt at tying off his umbilical cord. His age means he was born in the midst of the civil war. The rebels came early to areas that held diamonds. Shika has been working the mines since he was seven. His job is to stand in the water and rinse the mud off a shovel full of gravel using a shake-shake (wire mesh). It's heavy work and he is bent over for up to 10 hours a day. His payment is a cup of rice and a scoop of sauce for food each day and medical treatment (keep them healthy so they can work). If he's lucky he'll find a diamond and get a bonus. He gets 1000 Leones (40cents) for a small diamond and 4000 Leones and some clothes for a big diamond. Sometimes he goes for months without finding a diamond. It was hard to find out exact information but it sounded like he would find a diamond or two every four months. His dream is to go to school.
April 21, Knock Knock
"Knock, Knock, Sandra, Fanta, are you there ?" When people knock at your door they don't actually knock it − they just say, "knock, knock". It is the day after Palm Sunday. I videoed the service for Father Momoh and after the sacrament finished I was introduced to the 300 plus congregation as a Canadian who is here until Wednesday working on a project on women and children. As soon as I was introduced I knew I was done. From the service on there has been a steady stream of visitors asking for help - financial help for projects, to go to school, to get medical help, to feed the family. I wake up in the morning and I can hear a group gather − chattering happily at the possibility that I will fund their needs. It's the same when I get back to the room at night…a group is always patiently waiting. I invite them in, a few at a time, and watch their faces fall as I explain that I am not a sponsor (which makes no sense to them…since I'm from Canada and I have a ton of fancy camera equipment). It one of the most difficult parts of visiting SL. Almost everyone here asks for money − either directly or indirectly. I don't blame them − everyone is so desperate. SL is labeled as the poorest nation on earth…poverty is not a statistic − it is reality. The needs are so great.
I've already given away my "slush funds" and promised to try to help another three groups. I have to be careful to make sure I keep enough to last the trip. My inclination is to just give it all away. The trouble with that is − it's a drop in the bucket.
April 22, Sex Slaves
One young girls face haunts me. She seemed so vulnerable, so nervous. She was polite and beautiful and had gone through 5 year of pure hell. Today I interviewed 4 girls from a CAW sponsored girls training group. Their stories were all horrendous. All were captured and used as "wives" or casual sex partners. The young girl I mentioned was abducted when she was 9 years old . At 11 or 12 she started being routinely raped by her captors. Anyone who wanted her could take her……sometimes they took turns and gang raped her. It went on and on − for years. When she wasn't used for sex they worked her like a slave. She carried supplies, washed their clothes and prepared meals. She was beaten regularly. She had 2 children by rebel fathers. One died in the camps, the other survived.
April 25, Good Friday − Laka Beach , Exploitation
I woke up with the word "exploitation" filling my consciousness. There is so much of it here. If you have money you are able to hire a troop of people to keep you comfortable. But people hire staff for the least money possible (sometimes meager food and a mat). Children are defenseless and are exploited − they work unbelievable hours in unbelievable conditions usually for food or a tiny wage (10 − 40 cents a day) Women are still undergoing ritual mutilation to fulfil traditional demands and maintain male dominance - they are exploited. Foreign companies exploit the resources and local labour. Local businesses do the same. Everyone goes for the bottom line − no matter what the effect on the people.
April 26, Laka Beach, Human Security − a Canadian thing
I met an interesting Swede today. He has just taken up a posting to establish a Human Rights Watchdog Organization in SL. He asked what I was doing here − I told him about my work and the fellowship. He responded by asking me to define human security ?He said only the Canadians use this broad term - the concept and the focus is a deeply Canadian thing. As I hear recent news of the invasion of Iraq I've been thinking about the meaning of HS and Canada 's identity -. Never in my memory have the two North American countries looked so different to me.
I think Canadian's overriding concern is for human Security − where as it seems to me that the American overriding concern is for liberty. It makes a huge difference.
April 26, Saturday, Cleaning Morning
Every Saturday by law you must clean your yard. I woke early and went for a walk at 6:30 AM …it was romantic and misty…by 10 AM I could hardly breath. What I had thought was mist was actually smoke from fires burning leaves and rubbish. Garbage men do not exist here and everyone just throws small bits of rubbish onto the street − Cleaning Morning keeps it under control. Amazing to see an entire nation cleaning all at one time − effective though.
April 27, Laka Beach - Easter Sunday and Harry Potter
The last few days have been a real tonic. I've been writing 5 to 6 hours a day and organizing all my work (catching up on all the loose ends that seemed impossible to tie up on the road). I chose Laka Beach to do this because it is stunningly beautiful and peaceful?.none of the horns or congestion of Freetown .
The only aggravation is I am down to reading Harry Potter, not that I mind HP but something a bit toothier would be appreciated. I have inhaled all the English books that I brought?and this is it (scavenged from a load of books I brought for the Catholic Mission). Two more days to go and 50 pages of HP left?time to go home.
April 28 Going Home
I have given everything possible away − I leave with about $5 of Leones in my pocket and one $50 US bill for emergencies. I wish I could give more.
Cambodia
On Route
The Korean stewardess's final on board address offers "Peace be with you in this holiday season " I'm on a short stop in Korea on my way to Cambodia . Last time I was in Seoul was in January 2001 with the Gun Sculpture exhibit. The meaning of the holiday words have power?Koreans know how precious peace is.
Cambodian-Thai Border- Overland Dec 28, 2002
What a culture shock.! Going overland across the Thai−Cambodia border is an experience no one should miss?It's a smack of reality?. After all of my years of traveling I still was unprepared for the absolute poverty. Working and begging children everywhere. 5year olds carrying newborns wrapped in ragged and filthy shawls. Heat, dust and an apocalyptic parade of pieced together vehicles of transport filled the border town. Landmine victims are abundant. My son, eyes wide open, but forever the optimist, said "cool, did you see the cart powered by the guy using his hands instead of feet?" ?he hadn't realized the man had no feet?that he was a victim of a landmine.
The effects of war were everywhere…poverty, malnutrition, maimed people….a human tragedy draped across a border town backdrop of commerce and to add to the surreal image − two immense and opulent casinos inviting visitors to "make a killing."
Beauty of Cambodia , January 3, 2003
Said good-bye to my family today, they are back to Canada − and I head to PP. Our 7 days together in Siem Reap has been beaucolic. Angkor Watt is a sculptors dream - miles and miles of the most sensational and impressive ancient architecture and carving. Cambodia is really very beautiful. The people stunning with their beautiful smiles
Arrived Phnom Penn 12 noon , Sat, January 4, 2003
I can't help it?I feel so depressed by the destruction ?.It must have been a beautiful city ?once. It feels so different from Siem Reap. Now PP is being rebuilt, construction is everywhere..? what a waste?what a waste war inflicts, and at what a cost. So much of Cambodia 's infrastructure was brutalized and ruined?the battered architecture feels to me like a metaphor for the nation and it's people.
I feel really out of my element….me the world traveler……I should have a better handle on this…but PP feels dangerous to me….It feels close to the edge and I'd better keep my guard up. …Maybe I'm just tired and I've heard too many bad stories….
Chickens − on my journey to PP
There was a ragged hen with four chicks pecking at insects on the dusty road. There were bits of garbage − plastic bottles, coconut husks, paper, and animal feces - everywhere. How could the young chicks survive the filth? How could they look relatively healthy? It's amazing to me how little we need to survive.
Poverty January 5
I look at the real poor on the streets. They have so very little…clothes that they wear, a small plastic sack of possessions…and yet they survive. The question is − at what cost? At what cost to the community, to their own health, to their joy, the cost of not being educated, the cost of the future of their children?
First Impressions PP, Jan 7, 2003
What do I really see? I've been in PP four days. I know my first impressions: - heat, dust and poverty. After a few more days − I know of a massive building surge - of numerous colonial mansions and buildings undergoing renovations; of an array of excellent restaurants fueled by the vast presence of NGOs, of NGO aid signage everywhere.
But what else? The people…they smile, they are very polite. Many of them work 12 hour days, huge numbers of unemployed hang out on the streets all day. Children work…..hard. Not many people are obviously aggressive- neither the stall keepers nor the beggars. PP is congested − with people and vehicles − motor bikes (with 1 to 4 passengers on the seat). It makes crossing the road a lottery for life. Stalls are open morning to late night. A city that doesn't sleep.
What does privilege mean? 8PM Jan 7 th
I sit on my hotel balcony sipping a cold gin and tonic. Sweat trickles down my back leaving a dark stain on my silk blouse. No matter − free laundry comes with the apartment.
Cambodia is filled with people in privileged positions − conflict fuels profit as well as poverty. Many locals have "done well", many NGO's have become industries on the back of war.
January 9, 2003 , Arts and Culture
Ingrid is quite lovely − and very overworked…perhaps close to the crash point. She first came to Cambodia to do a doctorate and, like many, was compelled to stay to help with the rebuilding. She works with an NGO, promoting a rejuvenation of the professional arts in Cambodia . Artists were one of the first targeted groups for the Khmer Rouge to execute − and only a few survived. Cambodia is a country that reveres its artists and culture. In a country still in survival mode grooming and replacing the professional artists is a massive need and challenge. But if it's not achieved − part of their identity will be lost- and along with that?.respect and history.
I bought a book about a local artist- Svay Ken. A really good µ self taught artist, a natural storyteller. The staff said most foreigners didn't like the work or the book very much − they wanted to purchase books more to do with a Khmer Rouge angle. How does a country emerge from the mantle of war − and be allowed to rebuild normalcy? The problem is - normalcy does not generate funding and Cambodia still needs massive support. Catch 22.
January 10. Morality
Over the last week , I've been meeting with a variety of people −(teachers, journalist, artists, businesswomen, diplomats, aid workers and directors of agencies). There is a curious divergence of opinions about the health of the Cambodian society.
I'm rereading Cambodia by Henry Kamm −quite a few of his observations are re-enforced in my interviews with foreigners living in PP. One of the most disturbing and chilling areas mentioned is the breakdown of traditional morality and the gloomy prediction of the years (and generations) it will take to rescue and reconstruct a civil foundation. How do people return to a responsible community structure − when absolute survival has been the only code for so long? As a short-term visitor − it isn't an obvious problem to spot ?but aid workers and some of the locals expressed sadness and frustration at the lack of neighbour support (dog eat dog environment) , the considerable domestic violence and the abhorrent and continuing sale of children into slavery.
How do you learn to trust again? To trust that there will be food to eat, that no one will take your house, that no one is spying on you, that your children will be alive tomorrow? What effect do years of terror and the stripping of all basic human rights have on a community? How does fear, exhaustion, and hunger effect your spirit? How does it effect the way you bring up your children?
Educated Cambodians, on the whole, are sick to death about the issue of morality. Their precious country has been minutely dissected under a microscope. They have had to rely on long-term foreign help (and interference) to survive and rebuild. They are incensed that foreigners continually label their society as immoral - that everyone who experienced the brutality and deprivation of the Khmer Rouge is permanently morally damaged.
I don't know. It's so complex and difficult to access − I just don't know
After interviewing so many women, I can't imagine going through what they did without having my body and soul deeply traumatized. I don't know how I would react to the post war poverty and the struggle to re-establish my family situation. Could I trust and could I share the little I had? Would I have the energy or the belief in the future to help others?
Many of the women I met (Sous Man, Chea Vanath, Chan Sok Loung in particular) were inspirational examples of moral strength and dedication. Against mountainous odds − they are triumphing and making a mark. Amazing women - they are the ones creating Cambodia 's future. With people and energy like this − I can't help but think that the future is positive and that the women of the country will only get stronger.
January 10, 2003 , War
War takes a bloody long time to recover from.
Escape, January 11
Last night I wanted to run away. I would have done anything to not work on my project. I couldn't sleep…all I could think of - is why did I think I could make a difference? − How could I believe that I could really communicate the women's experiences? Real issues, real people, real effects. Real insecurity?? Really daunting.
Trying to escape from my thoughts − (and the interviews of the day) I watched a movie − some Hollywood dribble. In the middle of the movie − I got a heavy anxiety attack. I was completely disorientated. I couldn't grasp where I was..I had to go out on the balcony,-- feel the heat of the night, hear the noise, look down on the street and see the people. I am desperate to feel anchored?but the longer I stay the more tenuous and ungrounded I feel. The issues I'm researching are so very complex here. Sitting in the air-conditioned room with Hollywood on the screen seemed to sever the fragile thread I thought I had on Cambodia .
I've just reread the last few pages- I don't recognize myself. I'm the grounded, unflappable one- aren't I?
Jan 13, Interview with Chin Sar and Chin Run
Socheath (my young, intelligent and lovely female interpreter) and I conducted our first interview. We simply walked down the Riverside and asked a 55-year-old lotus vendor named Chin Run if she would talk to us. I set up my equipment and we sat beside a Buddhist temple on a couple of grubby mats. (I was going to sit on the ground but she politely insisted on the mat). Her story is too familiar. A poor woman who before Pol Pot times had, with her scrap merchant husband, managed to feed and keep her family − After − just survival and misery. She now ekes out a living by selling incense and lotus flowers beside a Pagoda. During the war she was separated from her husband. She still does not know if he is alive or dead. She was left with a 3 month old baby and two other young children. She spent her time under Pol Pot on forced farming and carrying human excrement to fertilize the fields. She secretly collected and smoked worms to feed her children to try to keep them alive.(you get one warning , second time you are executed for hoarding "food") At the end of the interview she said about her life "I don't talk about my story, if I talk about my story − it's so full of sorrow. I cry but there are no tears, so much sorrow. We are poor, but we (her mother and herself) have to take care of the children. I hear my husband may be alive, but he never comes back, we must look after the children by ourselves"
One of the questions I asked was "what makes you happy?" her reply" Happy? If you have something ? maybe?but I am so poor, so how can I be happy? Nothing to eat,?if I have morning food, I don't have enough in the evening. If I have evening food I don't have enough in the morning." Happy is not part of her vocabulary.
We also interviewed her 77 year old mother, Chin Sar?..
She started her story by telling us "It's so difficult, they took everything, only left me my body. They leave me without my children. (children over 6 were usually forcibly removed from their parents). Chin Sar was reunited with her children after the Khmer Rouge fell. But her children are also poor so she still has to take care of herself. "Now I do nothing- just cleaning the pagoda yard. I get help from the monks (she's allowed to sleep in the pagoda) and I sell things. I make 100 to 200 Riels (100 = 5cents) a day to buy things to eat". I asked her if she had hope for the future. She replied, " I hope just to live,. to just survive, to have just enough to survive. I don't want more than that because I am old".
After the interview, Socheath and I sat on the river wall organizing my audio and video equipment. Chin Sar came up to me with a gift of Lotus pods (delicious green seeds − a litlle like fresh peas). She beamed a broad and contagious smile. Her luck had never been so good. She was referring to the $2 US gift of appreciation (about 2 weeks earnings) I had given her after the interview. Luck was everything and today was her luckiest of days.
January 14, Future?
To many here the concept of future doesn't exist. It is not a Buddhist concept. Karma and luck seem to dominate. Is it harder to rebuild when the present is the chosen moment?
January 17 − early, PP − Who Are You?
PP is two cities. One that is dusty, roads in disrepair, garbage in the street, laundry drying in front of shops, street markets, hawkers, mangy dogs lolling in the heat, people everywhere -standing or sitting and talking or working − carrying heavy sacks on their heads. The words "toil" and "acceptance" come to mind.
The other city is clean with paved streets; an abundance of good restaurants, vast opulent villas, and markets filled with colourful silk, silver and gold, air-conditioned shops with designer goods and luxury cars. This is the world of the small wealthy class and the visiting NGO's.
Depending where you go or stay − you could almost forget the other exists.
January 17 − 6 PM − The Onion
Veils, veils, veils….all I find is veils. It's like peeling an onion − the layers are unending. I think I understand and then another layer appears. It's not just me − every foreigner I meet, empathizes with my confusion - they have the same dilemma − they have just learned to live with it.
January 18 −Democracy.
Cambodia is trying for democracy?or at least that is the current ideology expected of them. In thirty years they have had everything from royal rule to extreme communism (brutal slavery in my view). Can they achieve a real democratic state? Most of the poor women I interviewed didn't really understand what democracy means. A seasoned journalist (30 years covering Cambodia ) commented, "that until people are making $1000 a month there would be no true democracy". It's as much to do with stemming corruption and exploitation - as in promoting understanding.
Feb 4th Back in Canada
What a dramatic change − no more dust, rice paddies, wonderful fruit markets, no oppressive heat, no more brushing my teeth with bottled water no more wide beautiful Cambodian smiles. Instead −I find - snow and cold, supermarkets and drinkable water, and an overall comforting feeling of safety. Life is more predicable here − it makes the belief in tomorrow so easy.
"How-dee boh-dee ….mon?" One of the first greetings I experienced upon landing in Sierra Leone . Not that I could understand what the porter was saying. Eventually I would figure out to say back, "we boh-dee fine".
April 5, 2003 − Night Arrival
Anyone who conducts off site research and suggests that they understand a country that has been through conflict should visit Sierra Leone . There is no way a westerner can comprehend a war torn country until you're inside it. Until you breathe the air, see the destruction, feel the desperation of the people and witness first hand the human spirit's ability to survive against incredible odds.- until then it is all theory.
I landed at Lungi airport at night and was immediately swamped with porters who managed to clean me out of all my small American $ bills in short order (I had no idea of the going rate). I was relieved of my pocket cash but in exchange I was put on the right helicopter to the right heliport (near the Mammy Yoko Hotel ), - a coup after a long flight and a disorienting night entrance.
My host, Father Momoh , the round and likeable director of CAW (Children Affected by War) met me at the heliport and whisked me away to Samuels Guesthouse on the east side of Freetown.
Samuel's is a modest and friendly guesthouse on the East side − the side of Freetown first invaded by the Junta on January 6, 1999 in "Operation No Living Thing." The better hotels, banks and businesses are on the West side. Other than West Africans − it is rare to meet another foreigner here. Light skin seems to stay on the West side of town or in the hills. Staying here is a good way to visit Sierra Leone − you either sink or swim − there is no easy reach to western comforts or company. The issues that confront you here are so difficult − given the opportunity to hide from them − the inclination would be to take the easy way out.
Walking down Ross road (where the guesthouse is) − you definitely know you are in Freetown . A white woman walking down a busy east end street is an odd duck. I stand out like a beacon. White women are only seen in cars on this side of town. Why on earth would I be walking in the heat? Where am I going? The stares are suspicious. Unlike Cambodia − people do not smile at strangers. It makes the walk a slightly unnerving experience. I'm not going to stop walking though − it's the way I ground myself to a place?it's the beginning of understanding.
April 5 − Now and then.
"The only way to solve our economic problems is to have a war," I was told that this was a very common statement in Sierra Leone before the rebel war. They had one - and at what a cost.
April 5th Freetown
White United Nation SUVs and trucks stream past, a myriad of NGO vehicles with their logos emblazoned on their sides, a few private cars and motor bikes and a seemingly endless round of diesel trucks, blasting horns and blaring music. The congestion in the stop start traffic is thick and choking. London has nothing on Freetown . It took an hour to go a few miles this morning. CAW has organized the rental of a car and driver for me. The driver, Mr Sesay, is like the best drivers all over the world − efficient and a font of knowledge. He was introduced to me as Mr. Sesay but he soon asked me to call him "African Mon" ?a name that came from being recognized as knowing every bit of Sierra Leone and he was proud of it. He's a likeable character.
Met with Arch bishop Ganda this morning. Since I still can't quite understand Father Momoh's accent I didn't twig that I was going to meet the archbishop until I was in his office and encouraged to have my interview. A bit of a shock − but it turned out to be a very interesting hour. Ganda is a fiery, articulate individual who does not hold back his opinions. Among topics discussed was the issue of how foreign NGOs work with local groups. The related politics and power of the aid industry is frightening. It's the same story as I heard in Cambodia .
April 7, Child Combatants
Today I interviewed two ex child combatants that CAW had help reintegrate into the community. The first interview was with a boy who was training to be a car mechanic. It went OK but was complicated by the interview environment. Right from the beginning we were surrounded by the boy's co-workers. They were aggressively jealous that he was being interviewed and their own stories were not being heard − it was a bit hard to keep his full attention − and I don't know how much of his story he held back. Still - a glimpse at his past and present life was a shot of chilling reality.
The second interview was more informative and deeply sad. Rebels had abducted the young man at the age of 7 or 8yr. He first became a porter and a spy for the rebels. By the age of 9 he was carrying an AK47 and learning to shoot, by 10 he was a soldier. His story was told quietly in response to questions by CAW's research and field officer Mr Abu. He told of horrors that included killing, maiming and ritual cannibalism. From the age of 8 on he was continually given drugs − mainly cocaine and weed but he thinks there could have been others. He told of alcohol and drug parties after raids. He calmly talked about amputating limbs.
He rarely looked my way.
I wondered if a child, kidnapped at 7 had the basis to judge right from wrong so I asked him if he understood at the time that he was doing something wrong. He answered, yes he knew, but others who had refused were shot in the head so he had no choice. It was simple survival and chopping off limbs got easier as time went on. He lived with the rebels and Junta for 9 years. He's now 19, married with two children (he met his wife at a reintegration centre). He's started up his own woodworking shop and is positive about the future. He still suffers from nightmares
April 8 Impressions
If I thought I was confused in Cambodia ….Sierra Leone is on another level. My first impression of Freetown was of a poor, overcrowded, hot African city….but after awhile I noticed how many amputees there are and how many building and amenities have been destroyed. You learn that electricity is a luxury − as is running water. You start sensing the desperation and the fragile hold on survival, the embedded fear. And everywhere you look you see children working and working hard through long hours, many of them with distended bellies. Starvation is not apparent but malnutrition is.
April 10, UN
They are everywhere − I heard that there are still 15,000 UN troops in SL. All the country roads have bunkered checkpoints on them. I haven't been allowed to photograph any installations or soldiers − everyone is so skittish about being identified. It reminds one how recent the war was and how fragile the peace
April 15 My African Name - Fanta
Abu Juma asked me "what would I like to drink? "Fanta please" I replied. He passed me a cold pop. Juma paused and murmured, "Fanta ? mmm?I think that will be your African name?. Fanta a refreshing woman" From there after I was Fanta,not Sandra or Sarah or Susan (all the names somehow assigned to me) but Fanta - It made everyone laugh when I was introduced ..that I should have an African name!
Thurs April 15 Journey to Bunthe Island - HOT
What a day. 40 plus Centigrade. How-dee boh-dee??.dee boh-dee HOT (I chose to visit in the hottest month of the year not smart) We left Freetown early and took the road to Bo. A couple of hours in we took a side road?(now I know why we need a four wheel drive). The gravel road gave way to a once paved, but now jaw breaking trail, eventually turning into a grassed two-wheel track. On the way we stopped at local missions and schoolhouse in villages called Moyamba, Monkangi and Moriba. Father Momoh is obviously well liked in the villages everyone greets him warmly and is pleased to see him. I receive a warm welcome too.
The further away from Freetown , the friendlier the people become. I'm starting to relax and enjoy myself. I have taken about 30 pictures today everyone wants a "snap snap" 4 hours away from Freetown we reach Yajoi a small seaside village and our point of departure. After 2 hours in an open boat (continually being emptied of water) we reached Bunthe Dock. Spectacular scenery
April 15 Evening Bunthe Is Catholic Mission
Bunthe was once a thriving agricultural and resort centre. Now the docks are in ruin, the resorts closed and the people living a meager standard of subsistence. Luckily most can grow enough to feed themselves.
We are staying at the Catholic Mission House. I have been given what once was (that term again) a beautiful room. It's a large room with a front sitting area and a bedroom area with two 4 poster iron beds and a bathroom with toilet and a concrete shower. The beds are covered with a beautiful blue tie-dye sheets that doesn't quite mask the mustiness of the ancient mattress and pillows. Buckets of water are carried in for a "scoop" shower and to freshen the toilet (running water disappeared long ago). There are light bulbs but rarely electricity. I think they tried to start up an ancient generator in my honour but it only worked for 10 minutes and quit. I'm learning to write by candlelight.
Tonight - talked with Father Momoh for hours about the numerous challenges that Sierra Leon faces. I'm really enjoying spending time with him he's very intelligent, insightful and has a slightly rye sense of humour. Stimulating company.
April 16, War Criminals
Bunthe Island is also famous/infamous for its prison for war criminals. Some of the worst beasts of the war sit peacefully in a newly built prison (the only place on the island I saw with electricity and running water) guarded by crack UN Nepalese troops. Today I met with the head of security for the prison - a Canadian called Jeff K (he's sensitive about being identified). We talked and walked around the perimeter of the specially designed blue and white prison. I don't know how effective the war court will be ?there's still a lot of unanswered questions? but as I walked outside the razor wire fence I could feel this must be history in the making.
The trying of war criminals is a very touchy subject here ?everyone has something to say about it and the opinions differ. Many think more criminals should be charged for the atrocities (only 5 are presently in prison), just as many people feel that the peace is still so fragile that by telling the horrors publicly they will inflame people (from both sides of the conflict) and it may cause more conflict. I don't know how reconciliation takes place after the stories I have heard. Could I forgive? Most say that they can forgive but not forget??I'm amazed if they really can truly forgive.
Visiting here makes you realize how fragile peace is.
April 16 Secret Society
On my way thru Bunthe town to an evening interview I met a group of about 30 young girls (8- 12 yrs old) and a few boys. They were singing and dancing and laughing. Many of them were painted white and dressed in their mum's clothes. They swarmed around me dancing and singing the traditional initiation songs - hoping to be videoed. The young girls were pretending that they had already gone through the initiation ceremony (culminating in circumcision or what many called female genital mutilation). The cutting ceremony isn't what they were focusing on (do they even know about it?) It's the celebration of the child becoming a full-fledged adult and member of the secrete society. It's a huge jump in position and respect.
Traditionally a child does not have many rights until they go through the initiation rites. The rites used to include training of the girl in the arts of womanhood growing and preparing food, taking care of the house and family as well going through circumcision. In an odd response to western criticism of initiation they have started to limit the rituals?with less and less training of the girls and a shortened initiation version that sometimes only includes the circumcision and celebration. Figures I've read say that 80 % of SL girls are circumcised. A MSF nurse explained to me on how it's done?I won't repeat the gruesome procedure?needless to say hygiene and pain control are not paramount, infection and ongoing health problems are too common. I've yet to understand any reasons for this act other than control.
April 16 Interview with Cecilia
Cecilia is 77 yrs old and for the last 6 years has lived a hard and bitter life. Before the Junta came - her son was an important government official and she lived in a well-kept house in Bunthe town. The Junta invaded Bunthe and her son fled to her house for protection. The junta pulled him from his hiding place and dragged him into the open field across from the house. Cecelia was brought along side of her son. She was made to watch as they slit him open. They then cut out his still beating heart and made her hold onto it. The final obscene act was to cut off his head and put it in her lap with the statement that she could now suckle her son once more. Atrocities - as should never happen.
I don't have an identity when I listen to these stories…I don't know where to put the horror or sadness for the human race.
The junta destroyed Cecilia's house and warned the townspeople to not assist her. Mr. and Mrs French disobeyed the soldiers and allowed Cecelia (to this day) to sleep in a small out room of their house. She's still fighting for compensation for her suffering and poverty.
April 17 Language Krio English based Creole came with the slaves
Krio is such a great language full of surprises and expressions like gladi-gladi for happy or chop for food. It took me a week to figure out that bef was not beef but was any type of meat. You can have cow-bef , chicken-bef, goat-bef, sheep-bef?pig bef?so if someone offers you " bef " you have no idea what you are getting?all you know is that it will be protein and in a stew.
April 17 - Food
Breakfast fish stew again?..what would my kids say?
April 21, Bo Town, Chickens and Cobras,
While on a visit to CAUSE Canada 's women and girls workshop in Manon village the subject of chickens came up at lunch. While we ate from a delicious communal platter of chicken stew and country rice, a plump mama chicken, surrounded by multi coloured chicks, scrambled to peck dropped grains of rice. Hanna (the cook and host) mentioned that she was going to have to lock up the chickens inside her house instead of in the chicken coop (a ram shackled construction of woven mats and sticks) at night. She had had a few chickens disappear. "What was getting them"? I asked. "A Snake", she replied. "I think it is a cobra".
In my country it's the fox or coyotes in the hen house. Through the haze of heat it wakens a simple realization?.yes, I really am in Africa .
April 22, Diamonds and Children
Diamonds and amputation?normally they don't seem to go together?but here in Sierra Leone they do. The power and greed that came from controlling the diamond fields, had a direct link to the continuing brutality of the civil war. They have been tagged as blood diamonds.
Today we met Shika, a young boy of nine. He was stunted for his age. He stood about 4" above my elbow (I'm 5' 3). A massive bulge sat on his stomach - the result of a crude attempt at tying off his umbilical cord. His age means he was born in the midst of the civil war. The rebels came early to areas that held diamonds. Shika has been working the mines since he was seven. His job is to stand in the water and rinse the mud off a shovel full of gravel using a shake-shake (wire mesh). It's heavy work and he is bent over for up to 10 hours a day. His payment is a cup of rice and a scoop of sauce for food each day and medical treatment (keep them healthy so they can work). If he's lucky he'll find a diamond and get a bonus. He gets 1000 Leones (40cents) for a small diamond and 4000 Leones and some clothes for a big diamond. Sometimes he goes for months without finding a diamond. It was hard to find out exact information but it sounded like he would find a diamond or two every four months. His dream is to go to school.
April 21, Knock Knock
"Knock, Knock, Sandra, Fanta, are you there ?" When people knock at your door they don't actually knock it they just say, "knock, knock". It is the day after Palm Sunday. I videoed the service for Father Momoh and after the sacrament finished I was introduced to the 300 plus congregation as a Canadian who is here until Wednesday working on a project on women and children. As soon as I was introduced I knew I was done. From the service on there has been a steady stream of visitors asking for help - financial help for projects, to go to school, to get medical help, to feed the family. I wake up in the morning and I can hear a group gather chattering happily at the possibility that I will fund their needs. It's the same when I get back to the room at night?a group is always patiently waiting. I invite them in, a few at a time, and watch their faces fall as I explain that I am not a sponsor (which makes no sense to them?since I'm from Canada and I have a ton of fancy camera equipment). It one of the most difficult parts of visiting SL. Almost everyone here asks for money either directly or indirectly. I don't blame them everyone is so desperate. SL is labeled as the poorest nation on earth?poverty is not a statistic it is reality. The needs are so great.
I've already given away my "slush funds" and promised to try to help another three groups. I have to be careful to make sure I keep enough to last the trip. My inclination is to just give it all away. The trouble with that is it's a drop in the bucket.
April 22, Sex Slaves
One young girls face haunts me. She seemed so vulnerable, so nervous. She was polite and beautiful and had gone through 5 year of pure hell. Today I interviewed 4 girls from a CAW sponsored girls training group. Their stories were all horrendous. All were captured and used as "wives" or casual sex partners. The young girl I mentioned was abducted when she was 9 years old . At 11 or 12 she started being routinely raped by her captors. Anyone who wanted her could take her??sometimes they took turns and gang raped her. It went on and on for years. When she wasn't used for sex they worked her like a slave. She carried supplies, washed their clothes and prepared meals. She was beaten regularly. She had 2 children by rebel fathers. One died in the camps, the other survived.
April 25, Good Friday Laka Beach , Exploitation
I woke up with the word "exploitation" filling my consciousness. There is so much of it here. If you have money you are able to hire a troop of people to keep you comfortable. But people hire staff for the least money possible (sometimes meager food and a mat). Children are defenseless and are exploited they work unbelievable hours in unbelievable conditions usually for food or a tiny wage (10 40 cents a day) Women are still undergoing ritual mutilation to fulfil traditional demands and maintain male dominance - they are exploited. Foreign companies exploit the resources and local labour. Local businesses do the same. Everyone goes for the bottom line no matter what the effect on the people.
April 26, Laka Beach, Human Security a Canadian thing
I met an interesting Swede today. He has just taken up a posting to establish a Human Rights Watchdog Organization in SL. He asked what I was doing here I told him about my work and the fellowship. He responded by asking me to define human security ?He said only the Canadians use this broad term - the concept and the focus is a deeply Canadian thing. As I hear recent news of the invasion of Iraq I've been thinking about the meaning of HS and Canada 's identity -. Never in my memory have the two North American countries looked so different to me.
I think Canadian's overriding concern is for human Security where as it seems to me that the American overriding concern is for liberty. It makes a huge difference.
April 26, Saturday, Cleaning Morning
Every Saturday by law you must clean your yard. I woke early and went for a walk at 6:30 AM ?it was romantic and misty?by 10 AM I could hardly breath. What I had thought was mist was actually smoke from fires burning leaves and rubbish. Garbage men do not exist here and everyone just throws small bits of rubbish onto the street Cleaning Morning keeps it under control. Amazing to see an entire nation cleaning all at one time effective though.
April 27, Laka Beach - Easter Sunday and Harry Potter
The last few days have been a real tonic. I've been writing 5 to 6 hours a day and organizing all my work (catching up on all the loose ends that seemed impossible to tie up on the road). I chose Laka Beach to do this because it is stunningly beautiful and peaceful?.none of the horns or congestion of Freetown .
The only aggravation is I am down to reading Harry Potter, not that I mind HP but something a bit toothier would be appreciated. I have inhaled all the English books that I brought?and this is it (scavenged from a load of books I brought for the Catholic Mission). Two more days to go and 50 pages of HP left?time to go home.
April 28 Going Home
I have given everything possible away I leave with about $5 of Leones in my pocket and one $50 US bill for emergencies. I wish I could give more.
|
