Dr. T, my brother’s girlfriend @Trang, captured the attention of many scurrilous youths. She taught them the Chicken Song, Do Re Mi, and several similarly savory sing-alongs. She also taught them a few Aikido basics, feeding into their love of martial arts derived from bootlegged Karate DVDs.
That Saturday we had an educational day for high-school seniors and juniors, working with them on a mix of academic and non-academic subjects. Dr. H – brother Daniel (
Later that day, Daniel and I were set-up to visit the island off the coast. Iudotrehn. My brother, still considered a stranger to the customs, needed special permission. The clan chief gave us the go-ahead, but ultimately, we had to ask the Sea Commander, a man who reads the tides and grants access to the sacred area.
We brought our liquid offering (not as fancy as this one, but good tangent), took some in, and set off in the dugout canoe. Barnacles, sea cucumbers, and sea urchins covered the different surf zones, turning into a maritime snack for those on the island.
Sunday brought us to church. Liberians are always surprised to learn that Americans, who they assume are all good and righteous, infrequently attend services. Seeing as it is perhaps the most organized, regular institution in this area, I saw it right to bring my family. Church bells rang at 10:30, so we waited to go until 11:00. Apparently, we were still an hour early… should’ve known. We sang and danced, my mother reliving her youth one hymn at a time.
After service we went to my good friend Emmanuel Sieh’s to sympathize with his family, who lost their father a few weeks prior. The Methodist church was already there celebrating his life with men beating the drums and women shaking the saa saa (n. – calabash gourd dressed with beaded strings to serve as a shaker) and dancing in a line. Formalities are a must, so I made an open statement to the family expressing our condolences. The family thanked us and invited us to join in the dance, to which we responded with gyration.
