The White Girl with the Sexy Legs...

...is what one of my clients called me at work today. He was trying to tell one of my coworkers who had been helping him, but didn’t remember my name. It’s really a Godsend that I have such uniquely distinguishing characteristics, because otherwise, they could have been searching for his staffing consultant for hours.

I’ve never been a tree-hugger, and I prefer my bras tastefully intact, but it would be a lot easier to be cool about harassment if there weren’t so much freakin’ sexism to deal with on a daily basis. The comment above is the worst of an unexpected slew of catcalls, oglings and come-onnances* I’ve experienced since I started my new job.**

Admittedly, these incidents really aren’t that bad. They’re nothing compared to what Joan deals with on an average episode of Mad Men. But they have been surprising, especially for someone who is still trying to grasp the concept that guys might actually think I’m sexy. It’s a bit of a shock to the system.

As the daughter of two feminists-and I gotta shout out to my Dad and Mom, without whom I’d be less than half the person I am today- I probably shouldn’t be so surprised. But my parents spent so much shielding me from discrimination, I forgot that it actually existed.

And what nobody can prepare you for is how it feels to be objectified. For me, it’s a sinking feeling followed by a cognitive reaction of “Wait-is this really happening to me? I’m smart! I’m supposed to be the exception! I want to be the girl that gets along with guys and doesn’t scare them away with all that feminist gibber-jabber!”

But I guess there aren’t any exceptions. And maybe I owe it to people like Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Eleanor Roosevelt and Catherine Clark Kroeger to some of my own gibbering.

And to all you good guys who treat women with respect, including an awesome coworker who stood up for me today-

We appreciate you.

Tell your friends ;)

*come-onnances, n. instances of someone coming on to you. Not yet recognized by the Oxford English Dictionary.

**All from clients. I have fantastic coworkers.

Saying Goodbye

Today is my last day in Sierra Leone. I feel like I should be writing some profound statement that captures the essence of my time here, but honestly, all I can think about is how tired I am. This trip has been jam-packed with new experiences, which is exciting. But the energy necessary to process the newness has leaves one feeling like an old dishrag, wrung out and hung out to dry on a rainy day.

I'm looking forward to spending a few days in London on my way home. It will be a much-needed respite from the glaring foreign-ness of Freetown. I'm planning to take it easy-browse Portobello Street Market, eat lunch in back alley cafes, wear jeans for the first time in a month...I know, I'm living the dream, right?

But if I've learned anything during my time here, its that I shouldn't take simple things for granted.

Sierra Leone just celebrated the 50th anniversary of its independence. A great achievement to be sure, but the jubilee of this occasion is laced with the lingering bitterness of poverty, illiteracy, illness, and ethnic tension that plague this nation's past, and have the potential to threaten its future.

On Friday, I spent some time with a reporter from International Alert, a British think tank dedicated to studying how economic development facilitates peace and/or incites conflict in developing nations. He was very impressed with FIRST STEP's community-focused approach to economic development, and Sierra Leonean President Ernest B. Koroma's dedication to supporting similar projects. But our conversation revealed that good intentions, and even good plans, do not guarantee that projects like FIRST STEP will effect sustainable change in countries like Sierra Leone.

Whether or not Ernest is earnest, and I believe he is, his plans to bring Sierra Leone into the 21st century will be met with some degree of backlash by Southern Sierra Leoneans who dislike the fact that he comes from the North, by villagers who can't afford rising property costs, or displaced young people who are angry because change isn't coming quickly enough. And come August 2017, when Dr. Koroma's second term expires, dissenters on both sides of the political spectrum, may (or may not) use their fists to express their frustration.

It's a terrifying scenario, especially for citizens of (relatively) stable political systems like those of Europe and the United States. But, when we Westerners look at the risky reality of West African development, we seem to forget that our own countries experienced the same sort of instability during the Industrial Revolution. Between 1700 and 1900, Europeans and Americans catapulted themselves out of poverty through the cultivation of their textile, energy, and smelting industries, three industries that are currently developing in Sierra Leone. But they also witnessed uncontrolled urbanization and gentrification, employee and child labor abuses, corrupt officials buying elections, and distressed laborers in violent protest, the same social problems that are characteristic of developing nations like Sierra Leone.

There were times in my own country when success was not certain, and elections were not peaceful. By God's grace, I was not born at one of those times. I used to feel guilty for having been born in America to a family wealthy enough to protect me. Two weeks ago, when I saw a small naked child sitting in the dirt playing with a sharp knife he'd found, I was overwhelmed with gratitude that my 7-year old brother Jack was clothed, fed, and indoors, playing with plastic whale toys.

That's the way things are supposed to be.

But for most of the people in the world, the way it's supposed to be is a far cry from the way things are. It's hard to swallow the truth that I am part of the exception, not the rule. But I believe that American and European history demonstrate that, from the desolation of poverty and conflict, good things can, and do arise. It will require sacrifice on the part of wealthy nations for this to become a reality. But it's a price I'm willing to pay.

So, this weekend, caught in the tension between the privilege of my reality and the irrefutable knowledge of others' poverty, when I put on jeans for the first time in my 22nd year, when I buy a cup of coffee, and take a walk by the Thames, I will thank God for what he's given me.

And I will pray that he shows me how to best share what I have.

An Unjust Summary

There's no way I can do justice to all of the interesting experiences I've had since I last posted, but for the sake of keeping you informed, I will try.

The rest of my time in Makeni was a bit of a blur. My host at WHI contracted Malaria and was hospitalized. By God's grace, he recovered quickly, but his illness meant that I had some free time. I used this free time to arrange a visit to Gbedembu, the village where the child I sponsor lives. It was an amazing visit. He is a beautiful child. He's thriving in school, and wants to become an English professor. His grandmother and the WHI staffers arranging the visit credited me with his success. I didn't feel like I deserved the praise, but the visit was so encouraging. Before I went to Gbendembu, I was becoming very overwhelmed with the poverty, cultic practice, and abuse I was witnessing in Makeni. It seemed like the problems facing the city were way too big to be solved. Just when I was about to give up hope, God showed me that good things are happening in Sierra Leone too, and that He has already used me to make them happen. It was definitely a turning point in my perspective about Sierra Leonean development.

On Monday, I met the CEO of Africa Felix Juice (AFJ), the juice company that will be buying the mangoes from the villagers I met in Makeni. He's an enthusiastic Italian who has high hopes for the factory and for its impact on Sierra Leone. In my interviews and conversations with people in Makeni, I had heard many doubts expressed about the project's reception in the community. But when I visited the factory site on Tuesday, it became clear that these concerns are ill-founded. Africa Felix Juice has already had a profound positive impact on the cities of Waterloo and Newton, which are close to the FIRST STEP site. The factory's construction manager, also an Italian, has built the factory in 90 days with the help of only 28 local workers who previously had little-no construction experience. They have thrived under his guidance, and their loyalty to him is evident. An impromptu canteen has arisen as well. Women from the community bring food to sell to the workers, and AFJ is considering hiring them when the factory opens to work in the factory's kitchen. In my opinion, this company will be a great blessing to the community, and seems to be very well-received.

Easter is typically a very big holiday in Sierra Leone. This year, Easter Sunday comes just a few days before the country's 50th Anniversary of Independence, on Wednesday, April 27. Most people are taking the entire week off to celebrate. FIRST STEP, and I will still be working. They have a lot to do before the AFJ commissioning ceremony on May 5. But I hope to take a few days off to celebrate. I plan to attend an sunrise Easter service on the beach on Sunday. Later in the day, I plan to attend an Easter march that has been organized by the churches in Sierra Leone. The march will start at the famous Freetown Cotton Tree and end at the Leone Stars' stadium, where there will be a thanksgiving service. According to legend, when the first freed slaves arrived in Freetown, they held a thanksgiving and prayer service beneath this cotton tree. I'm excited to participate in a similar celebration on the country's 50th birthday!

Makeni, Makeni, Makeni!

I arrived in Makeni on last week Wednesday. Overall, it was a smooth trip. The trip was on "good roads," as opposed to the bumpy, pot-hole-ridden streets of Freetown. I got in at about 9pm, and a volunteer from the WHI office in town put me and my bags on a motorcycle taxi(or "ocada") to take me to the Women of Hope International guest house (a ministry for disabled Sierra Leonean women that is not affiliated with WHI). It was my first time riding a motorcycle, and it felt even more treacherous because of the blackness of night, and the bumpy streets. But I made it to the guest house alive. The next morning I woke early in order to make it to the WHI office in time to make contract-signing visits with Steve, the Mango Outgrowers Project Coordinator. These visits, which were also made by motorcycle, because they are easier to navigate in rural areas, were arranged to finalize farmers' agreements to supply mangoes to Africa Felix Juice (AFJ) company. The Mango Outgrowers Project (MOP) has found that farmers are very willing to sell the mangoes, and that there are plenty of mangoes to be sold. The main issue is the price that AFJ wants to pay for the mangoes. Currently, farmers sell mangoes to middlemen called "marketeers," who pay farmers 300 leones/mango and sell them for 1000 leones/mango in Freetown. (1000 leones=$0.25). AFJ wants to pay farmers 4000 leones (~$1) per 22kg crate of mangoes. The average mango weighs ~.5kg, which means that farmers who sign with AFJ will be receiving a fraction of the price/mango that they receive from marketeers. The draw of AFJ, however, is that the juice company promises to pay the same price throughout mango season. Currently, in peak mango season (May-June), when the market is flooded, mango value significantly decreases. At this time, farmers will give buckets of mangoes away for free. Those that are not sold or eaten simply rot. AFJ and MOP are seeking to facilitate a more consistent mango trade that both brings in more revenue for farmers (because they will be able to sell more mangoes than they did before), and distributes their income across mango season (instead of just at the beginning and end). The creation of a mango market promises to have many benefits for rural communities in Sierra Leone. In addition to the increased revenue, AFJ is creating job opportunities for rural youth. Urbanization has been a huge problem in many African countries in recent decades. Because there are few opportunities in rural areas, young people travel to the cities like Freetown, and to a lesser extent, provincial capitals like Makeni, looking for jobs. But when they get there, many times, the most lucrative opportunities available are criminal. They are disconnected from family and friends, so they look for support by joining gangs. Many of these young people would prefer to stay in rural areas, but their life situations make it impossible to do so. The creation of opportunities in rural areas, like the ones offered by AFJ, gives young people the reason and opportunity to stay and invest in their hometowns. Last week, I met a man whose son had actually moved back to his village (Matuflie) from Freetown in order to manage and oversee the mango harvest, an position that wouldn't have been necessary before AFJ came to town. Stories like this give me hope.

Yours Truly, Salamatu Kamara

I will forego the philosophical in this post, and give you some concrete details of what I've been doing since I arrived in Sierra Leone last week.

My first few weekdays have been spent with Hope Micro, a micro-finance subsidiary of World Hope International-Sierra Leone that provides small loans for the Sierra Leonean poor. They have served over 26,000 clients since 2002 and operate out of 7 branches around the country. I spent time with loan officers from the Central Branch in Freetown, asking them questions about their work and visiting clients with them. These clients fall into one of two categories: petty traders, and low-wage workers.

The most exciting part of my time with them was a visit to the Sierra Leone Armed Forces Headquarters, where we collected 45,000,000 leones (~$11,000) in loan payments. There are so many soldiers who borrow money from WHI to supplement their income that the Army deducts the monthly payments from their salaries and pays Hope Micro in one lump sum. The soldiers use their loans to help their wives start businesses, to cover emergency expenses, or improve their standard of living. A corporal that I spoke with today used his loan to pay the tuition to finish secondary school (equivalent to US high school) requirements so that he can go to university. This will allow him to get a promotion to lieutenant.

Tomorrow I go to Makeni, the capital city of the Bombali district for two weeks to learn about the Mango Outgrowers Project, a WHI initiative to help villagers sell mangoes to Africa Felix Juice Company, the first tenant of WHI's FIRST STEP Economic Opportunity Zone. I will be visiting the villages to talk to ask them about how the experience of working with World Hope has been. Most Sierra Leoneans in the north are subsistence farmers. Selling their mangoes to Africa Felix Juice will be the first experience many of them will have with commercial farming. FIRST STEP wants to make sure that the process goes as smoothly as possible, so my job will be to interview them about both the challenging and positive aspects of the process.

I am adjusting quite well. I’ve been staying with a woman who’s been a missionary in Sierra Leone for 20 years working with various organizations. Two other women are in the house also, and they’ve connected me with a rather vibrant expat community, two of whom are from Grand Rapids. Small world.

Communicating and connecting with Sierra Leoneans becomes easier every day. The loan officers at Hope Micro gave me an African name: Salamatu Kamara. One of them said that it meant “beautiful woman,” because I am a beautiful woman. I asked her if she was flattering me, but she didn’t understand the question. I’ll take it anyway.

Yours truly,

Salamatu Kamara

Perseverance

“Taylor, how do you see the community?” asked Theresa, a loan officer from World Hope International’s microfinance office, called Hope Micro. She stared at me from the back seat of the land cruiser waiting for my response.

I paused, trying to figure out what she wanted me to say. Was she asking if I disapproved of the poverty? I took the easy way out.

“It’s good,” I said. “The mountains are beautiful.”

She seemed pleased.

We were in Gbangbyallia (silent “G”), a small town outside Freetown that was accessible only by a very steep dirt road. The air was fresher away from the city, and it was quieter too. The drive offered an incredible view of high peaks disappearing into heavy rainclouds leftover from the night before.

Theresa and her colleague Wata had come to visit some women interested in taking out loans from Hope Micro, and were kind enough to let me tag along. I had assumed that the women were petty traders, small business owners dealing fruits, vegetables, and other supplies, so, when we arrived, I was surprised when we passed men, women, and children striking piles of small stones with hammers.

“The people of this community cut stones to build those houses,” Theresa explained. I followed her gesture away from the shanties and small buildings that belonged to the masons, up toward the peak of the mountain, where there were fifteen or twenty large stone houses. One, decorated with columns and carvings of pineapples had the word “Perseverance” emblazoned across the entryway.

It sent a shiver down my spine. If it were a private residence, why did the owner choose to display this virtue? In comparison to most of the people of Sierra Leone, whoever owned this house must be very wealthy. The owner had no need to persevere, for he/she had already arrived. The scene appeared to be a miniature history of colonial West Africa, with the rich soaring heavenward on stairways built by the poor.

Then I thought of the house where I am staying, and felt very foolish. It’s large even by American standards. I have running water and electricity, and, with the exception of the inevitable, occasional cockroach, it’s very clean and comfortable. It is a far cry from the way many Sierra Leoneans live, and yet, far less comfortable than the way I live, and if I’m honest with myself, the way I want to live in the future.

But maybe, for me, there’s something wrong with that desire.

Jesus says, “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for they will receive the Kingdom of God.” A sermon I once heard explained that this verse isn’t a prescription; it doesn’t mean that we should try to be poor in spirit so that we will receive a blessing. Rather, it is a pronouncement. It is the good news that says that God is present with the poor. Furthermore, rich people who want to know Christ’s truth must be a part of His work to ease their pain.

This call looks different for everyone, and I do not know how it will take shape in my own life. But being here these past few days has shown me that it is a central part of my call. Please join me in praying for the humility to make the sacrifices necessary to obey God, and the grace to persevere with joy.

Good Enough

Dear Friends,

I’ve recently discovered that I am a writer. To most of you, this isn’t breaking news. But over the past few weeks, it has literally blown my mind.

Boom.

But there’s a problem. Besides sporadic journal entries and my work for World Hope International, I don’t write very regularly. I’m a perfectionist; the bad kind that thinks that if I can’t write something earth-shatteringly insightful, then I shouldn’t write at all. I waste my time waiting for inspiration instead of humbly confronting that (gasp!) I’m not perfect.

But I don’t have to be.

As Christians, we often blame the Fall for our faults. The truth is that not all of our weaknesses are sinful. God intended for us to learn and grow, and the necessity of growth implies that, at some point, we fall short. Even the greatest among us started out as squishy babies who had to be reminded when to pass gas.

This is the first blog I’ve ever written, so please don’t expect great things. But for those of you who are kind enough to read what I write, I promise to serve this work with the best of my ability. I promise to listen to God and express what he tells me with an open heart and faltering words, with the faith that in Him, my best is good enough.

On a side note, the creation of this blog was spurred by my impending trip to Sierra Leone, where I will be working as a field writer for World Hope International. Please pray for God’s safety and protection and that I would listen to the stories that He asks me to write about my experiences. (They will be posted here!)