Sierra Leone... Life after Ebola

Back to Sierra Leone early January!

What a change, how lively it is, the country is back swagging, people go out, beaches and bars are full, what a change from last year, the contrast is enormous, highlighting both the resilience of the people from Salone and the admirable way they changed their habits and life, to respond to the worst Ebola outbreak. 

I have so much respect for them, now we are drinking, we are dancing and playing ball on the beach, that's the way we roll! 

  

People are back in the streets, gazillions of them, and I could spend some time in the markets and slums of Freetown. Informal settlements during the week and touristy spots on the WE.

One of the pleasure of spending time in slums is that they are full of contrasts. The first impressions are mostly filled with the litter, the smells of fire, sewage, food, noise and durtiness. Then you start paying attention to life, to the kids, the multiple businesses, the youths putting up a party spot, the others playing ball, and you come to the realization that the metal city is breathing and moving. Then beauty comes out. Beauty is shy. It comes in the way rooms are taken care of, the paintings on the walls, the people you meet or, in this specific case, in the work of craftsmen. Facing the sea is the shipyard, and a boat was being finished. I don't know what resonated so much in me. Was it the colours, the size or the story behind the boat? The ship builder told me that it was commissionned to navigate between Conakry and Freetown, transporting up to 25 people, with their merchandises. It was due to be lauched early february. It should be on the ocean now. The boats tell stories of the fishermen, of mobility and the relations people build between regions. The boats and the zinc houses are full of dreams, energy and aspirations. Walking in dirt with heads full of dreams. 

 

Thanks guys for taking me out to the Whatsapp -and filling a USB with local tunes. A cool venue to dance on nigerian, ghanean, Salone beats, azondo, dancehall, ndombolo and others! So nice to go out! So much more simple than in zim. You don't feel like an intruder, you're a guest and it feels good.

Quincy (previousely known as Paddy's) is another night spot, a bar, dancefloor and pool tables on the beach. I went there because I couldn't not go out. It's Freetown and Ebola is over. You have to dance for life. I was thinking I'ld find people in that popular venue but no-one I knew was there. There was a police-force function, with distribution of certificates and prizes, then the music kicked in.
When I'm alone I sketch. As a man alone in a bar, I draw attention, and the solitude is quickly broken by friendly ladies of the night. I find that drawing enables to switch the conversation, to discuss about something else than love, businness and attraction. We then get to chat about what I am doing, I get to do their portrait and chat about our lives, the children, the jobs, dreams of success and a good life. I like to hear stories of people. I think that in a sense that is what I do. Last year a young girl in india asked me what I was doing. I was visiting her school, in a brick kiln. the workplace of her family. It is difficult for me to explain my job to children, so I said that I am hearing stories from people all over the world and I can share them. In a way I am a storyteller. I am collecting hundreds of stories,  snippets of life from people who have/ are facing hardship and from those who live with empathy and compassion. I collect stories of violence and love, poverty and dreams, neglect and care.
And I see with so much clarity the similarity in the human experience, regardless of colour, gender, religion, group of belonging, environment... humans are designed to love, to help each others, to cooperate and to show compassion. Whatever the situation, be there war, natural disaster, violence... there will always be people who will care and help, regardless of the danger, regardless of themselves.
I met last week a beautiful women, she is working for the catholic church in a war zone, helping to provide health facilities to over half a million people. Under the bombs. On one side you have people trying hard to destroy, on the other you have others that keep on building and caring regardless. They win. She told me that she spoke to the bishop about the extreme situation she is working in, and yet that feeling of being alive, happy and so looking forward to go back in the field. Under the bombs, living surrounded by violence. The bishop said that it was like being in Love. Love make people do crazy things, forgetting themselves and yet feeling in complete harmony and peace.
     

My daughter can share images from her head, she can put thoughts in other people's heads and dreams. She is 5, she is right, she shares good thoughts. I should do that more often.Kids know things adults have forgotten.

Meeting in Kenya

From a quick trip to Kenya in June, for a meeting, not much time to sketch, a couple of plane-faces, beautiful clouds and a quick stop on the side of the road going to Naivasha. 

Sierra Leone

There is nothing comparable to the first steps out of a plane and being greeted by heat and humidity.
First trip for me to Sierra Leone, always special to go somewhere for the first time.

 

EBola: 

No touch policy. 

No gathering of people,

Everything is closed after 6 pm.

My trusted plunger broke. 

It might have been the best thing that happenned: Lacking cafeine, my brain started working, looking for solution to get access to the drug. It so happen that I have been watching MacGuyver when it was the hottest serie in the universe, and learned my lesson. I was building a cellphone with my knife and the beer I was sipping, in order to call my wife and have her send me a replacement plunger. Half way through the screen modulation, I realized that the diameter of the plunger and of the can were exactly the same. Bingo!  Did not have to build the phone.

Now I have another good excuse to drink beer. A cerveja in order to have coffee. Sounds good to me. 

And it truely is an amazing news: I don't have to stress no more about the fragile glass, to clean the   recipient etc. And coffee is tastier with a hint of hops.

  

 

On independence day (27th of april),  I went for a night in the forrest, a stone throw away from freetown. Tacugama is a chimpanzee sanctuary, fostering orphaned chimps and trying to get them to socialize and get prepared to go back in the wild.

Problem is that their natural habitat is disappearing. Deforestation is shocking, and in the remaining forrests there are poachers. So the future of the 90 odds apes might be bleak.

 

I guess I have to put a line or two about Ebola, since Sierra Leone unfortunatly is synonymous to the disease and everyone I met before/ there/ after going to SL is speaking about it. Yes, SL is much more than a virus, it has spectacular sceneries, amazing people and most stunning beaches. No, I did not catch it. Yes, it is still around.
It is one of the most gruesome disease: you catch it by close contact - by people you love and who love you- then, literally, you implose. If you get to an emergency treatment centre you'll be cared by people in astronaut suits and if you make it odds are that family members did not have your chance, and your friends and community will look at you warily. Not the best PR for the ministry of tourism. 

Today the epidemic is still not finished, more than 3000 people died from it, but the impact is yet to be felt. One Ebola year and the health system is on its knees, staff died, people don't trust health posts so attendance dropped for malaria, birth and every other issues, the economic development stalled, schools just resumed... people want it over and get back to normality.

The great thing about my line of work is that I get to meet admirable human beings. And many who left the comfort of their home and family to take the risk and respond to a very mortal disease. I got to meet fellow Zimbabweans, staks of kenyans, ethiopians, sudanese, congolese, europeans, americans... people from all over.  Among them, a lot of sierra leonians who migrated to flee the war, got a life, jobs and family in europe or the states and dropped everything to come back in SL to help. Always in the worst places, at the worst of time that you meet people carrying humanity with a smile.

What I do in airports.

I had the opportunity to travel earlier this month. The plane ride took me from Harare to Addis, to Rome, to Madrid, to Almeria and finally to Dublin. 

A long journey. 

A lots of movies and some sketching of people.

Social Workers in Kinshasa

Back to Kinshasa and work with the social workers of Anuarite and War Child.
I had an incredible time seing the social team discussing about their work, addressing their concerns and finding ways to address their difficulties.

I also had a bit of time to sketch and info-doodled my presentation of the study about girls living in the street, their activities and their relations with the social workers/ or, how to address socio-economic integration of the girls.
I am often surprized that the same recipes to get the girls off the street/ prostitution... are still in use when people talk about "re-integration". The same model that is bringing the same rates of success since they have been monitored end of the 19th century. And the same complains of the social workers can be heard today or read last century.

Girls are in the street for some reasons, and the street can give them a balance, support and understanding. As social worker, if we want to help them change, we have to make them dream of change, and help them in finding another balance, better than the one they have in the streets. There are no quick fixes nor recipes that fit all. It takes time, and grounding, and -for the social worker- to accept to let it go, work in teams, work where the girls are, understand the risks they take and the unknown they face getting out of where they are. They have done it once, leaving or being kicked out their families.

What is the better deal for them? What do they dream to reach?
Now we start to discuss. There are no problems to fix, only a bright future to build and reach, step by step.  

 

And Airport people, tired, waiting for the plane.

Practical guide to exit N'djili airport, Kinshasa

Getting out of Kin is a mild headache that takes time and cash. To the difference of my previous airport experiences, this one was the most procedural and long. 

Going to/ out of the USA is a pain, and immigration/ security officers there are really wearing the mask that fits their job. We had in that regard a wonderfull experience coming to Chicago after 46 hours travelling. We got to see and understand the humanity of a uniformed man who kept it professionnal whilst my 2 year old was relieving herself and was abundantly defecating on my wonderfull wife. They could only get clean after we completed our turn for the immigration interview. Obviousely no assistance could be given, it must be too much of a risk being in contact with kids (0,2,4 year old), or carrying luggages (too heavy and propably dangerous). 

There are other aiports where people are known for their capacity to make you feel guilty of something, whatever that might be. 

N'djili airport provides none of these guilt-moments: people are friendly, respectfull, facilitating the process for families and elderly people, really good in that way. And that humanity and contact makes the entire experience being tolerable. 

The Challenge of N'djili lies in the Kafkaian procedures one has to undergo to board the plane and get out of the country. Probably the most complex system I have been through.

My advise: spend the necessary 2'500 FrC (2.5usd) for an airport man who will help you going through the procedures step by step. Best money ever spend. 

It took me more than 3 hours with the help of the airport man to get everything sorted and be able to board the plane. The lenght was partially due to the no system situation, so all the tickets and luggages had to be done by hand, and partially due to the 17 controls and indispensable procedures that are strenghtening the belief that going in a plane is something special, one really should deserve and not consume. 

I join here some of the steps. The guide is for those who do not want to pay the airport guy, because they feel adventurous, or too stingy to pay him, or uptight on their right "not to have to rely on someone", generally combined with lavish criticisms about the way things operate here in the Congo. There was a frenchman in that category, I think that he spend his 3 hours getting angrier and angrier and telling everyone around how useless things where. Poor guy, he will make his shrink and heart specialist rich and happy. I feel you just poison yourself getting upthight for such small details.

In a way, unlike most aiport, N'djili provides entretainment and makes sure you keep busy and occupied from the moment you get there to the moment you jump in the plane. They make the wait go smooth, no need to feel bored sitting on an uncomfortable airport chair. Just for that I was happy to pay my 55usd exit taxes, althought I would have preferred if they were named them "Ndjili Entertainment and Occupation tax to help bored people wait for their planes".

First days in Kinshasa

Well, I had to travel a bit and start a new field consultancy, so days have been a bit hectic. I did not really dare to scan and use my work time to upload, but now I found a connexion and took pictures of my sketches.
So here are the sketches of my journey from Harare to Kinshasa, airport and plane.

In the plane, for once I was next to a lovely lady, but i did kept a bit untalkative, I was sketching and she was sleeping. She did enjoy the drawing in the end and helped me talking thru a zealous immigration officer, the 3:am kind of one who suddently want you to open all your luggages. She said that he should be ashamed to bother zee aartist, hahahahaha.
Loved it.

We went to watch the Grand -finalee at the the german embassy, which had 2 big screens, I was in the middle of the 2, following the game and sketching the crowd, for the first 20 min. Then Argentina got a bit too close. So some people's expression are showing stressful expectation/ joy or dispear, depending who i was looking at and the phase of the game. The first 20 min is in this picture.  So are the remains of my first beer.

That is the street view from War Child's office where I have been working yesterday. On the left is the mighty Congo River. Today I could not find a moment, I was actually talking and holding meetings, which made it a bit tricky to say "sorry folks, you do understand that we take a break now, I have a smoke and a sketch urge". All the best were ever you are in the world.