Liberia Day 4-5

The first night at my Dad's was trying to say the least.  The one bright sport was that my Dad's housekeeper brought over the neighbor lady's two month old baby for me to hold.  It was strange that she just sent her baby over without meeting me first, but as my dad says, they do things differently there.

 

I didn't sleep all night because the fan was not enough to keep me cool and the mosquitoes were feasting on every inch of my arms and legs.  The next morning I woke up (not that I was sleeping) to a rooster crowing.  I had at least twenty small marks that later turned into huge red welts.  I guess I should have taken a picture of that.  We opted to wipe ourselves with noxema wipes and wet ones rather than use the buckets for a shower.  C poured water over my head and into the toilet to rinse out my shampoo so I wouldn't be a complete grease ball.

Our breakfast was fresh pineapple and papaya.  This pineapple was not like Hawaiian pineapple.  It was so sweet that it tasted like a completely different fruit.

  
Then were were of to the museum in Monrovia.  Our tour guide was a really nice guy and we learned a lot about the history of Liberia, particularly the indigenous people.









From there we were off to partake in Indian food, which I have now enjoyed in not only America, but France, England, Austria, and now Liberia.

pineapple lassi!

 


From there we went to the oldest church in the city, Providence Baptist Church.  We met the youth pastor there who just so happened have gone to seminary at Princeton.  He and my husband hit it off and he offered to take us on a tour of Providence Island later in the week.

 
That night it was back to Caldwell for potato greens (delicious) and a terrible night of being eaten alive by mosquitoes.  Then at 1:37am the electricity cut off out of no where and it was pure hell.  All night I listened as my husband said words I had never heard out of his mouth and slapped himself constantly.  It was torture that I will not describe because I do not want to bring anyone down into the depths of despair we were suffering.

Th next day were off to find a hotel.  Mamba Point, the poshest hotel in Monrovia was fully booked with people from the UN, so we settled for its next door neighbor, The Cape.