Normally I'm nothing but excited to visit a new country and get another stamp in my passport, but after the Ebola outbreak I was slightly wary at first to visit Liberia. Still, it was an opportunity to participate in a workshop related to one of my projects and was a valuable, albeit brief, experience. Because of my Christmas plans back in DC this would also one of my briefest work trips: arriving just in time to prep for the workshop and leaving right after rather than taking a few days to actually see the county. As a result, my impressions of Liberia would be limited to glimpses of the capital, Monrovia, and the road from our hotel to the airport.
As we settled in for the first leg of our flight, I looked at the row across from me and saw a clean-cut guy with blond hair in his early 20's wearing the trademark short-sleeved white shirt of an LDS missionary. During our layover in Ghana it became clear that only a handful of the passengers were going on to Liberia, including him. As we struck up a conversation I learned that he had been serving in Liberia when the Ebola outbreak happened and the LDS Church had evacuated all foreign missionaries to their respective countries until it was safe to return, which apparently was now.
It was after sunset by the time we landed in Liberia and people were still enjoying a national holiday by being out with friends—in almost complete darkness. The civil war had destroyed the main dam that generated power for the capital years ago, and ever since the country was running on expensive generators. The dam was repaired with international aid and the power plant was set to come back online shortly after we left, so it was a unique window to see what that was like for so long. The road from the airport to Monrovia was in almost complete darkness, with faint lanterns in shops, and clogged with what appeared to be most of the town out celebrating. It was a broad paved road with traffic in two directions, but the number of lanes in each direction was fluid as cars constantly stopped to let passengers jump in and out of the trunks, others wove around them, and pedestrians bravely crossed the road. As a result, what could have been a short drive of less than an hour felt nearly endless, but it also made our fully-lit hotel stand out like a novelty when we finally arrived. It turns out the hotel had a bit of novelty besides the power. Like most of the lots in this area, it was long and skinny, with a terraced design that meant we had to walk down ramps as we walked down the hallway of a given floor. It was also near the ocean, but with no clear access to the beach.
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| View from my balcony towards the beach (almost too hazy to see the water). |
Here were some of the sights we saw on the drive to and from the office and workshop.
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| Roadside stand |
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| People waiting for their bus or taxi, who are creating their own lanes. |
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| Medical supply store |
I'm glad I was able to attend the workshop, meeting the experts with on-the-ground knowledge to vet our results and the persistence to make things happen despite war, epidemics, etc. Truly some remarkable people. And all too soon, we were on our way back to DC. The Monrovia airport consisted of a few rooms and a food stall, sufficient but I was glad we weren't there for too long. Our layover in Accra was longer, but they'd invested in a lounge that folks could pay US$12 and enjoy until their flight. It felt festive and I enjoyed the snacks and internet access until it was time to make our way to the gate a little after midnight.
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| Feeling festive in the Accra airport lounge |
That's where the adventure started. I waited as long as possible to arrive at the gate, intending to be one of the last to board. So I was surprised to be greeted at the gate with beverages and snacks, and a large waiting area that was still full of passengers. There was a mechanical issue with the plane, and they were attempting to repair it. I started out with a positive attitude despite the late hour, trying to make myself comfortable on their benches to sneak in a quick nap and sending texts to my family and friends, including learning about the birth of my friend's son. But as the hours dragged on, the florescent lights felt glaring, and I decided that playing poor covers of beloved Christmas favorites at full volume after 2 AM should be banned as a form of torture. It was well after 4 AM when they finally decided they could not repair the plane, and since Accra was not their hub the airline would need to fly in a plane from South Africa the next day. And so it was almost dawn when they paraded a few hundred of us through the airport to put us on shuttles to various hotels for a few hours. I'm still not sure how they managed to do this for all of us in transit without visas, immigration, etc. but I was exhausted and frustrated at all the plans I'd made that had been thwarted and to be one of the last to get to a hotel. Admittedly, the geographer in me still had to read the landscape as we drove to the hotel. Compared to what I saw in Monrovia, Accra looked very modern and developed with sidewalks, curbs, street lights (i.e. electricity), landscaping, and modern architecture. But I was still feeling very sorry for myself, and at one of my lowest moments I was shocked to see an angel Moroni shining in the darkness, indicating an LDS temple. I knew Ghana had a temple, but had no idea where and would never have guessed our hotel would be close by. I made a mental note, but my priority was a shower and sleep when I finally had a room.
Blackout curtains, eye masks, etc. do wonders for getting a decent rest and a change of attitude. I set my alarm to wake up a few hours before the shuttle would return us to the airport, long enough to get some Ghanaian currency for a taxi to the temple and a quick meal at the hotel. I knew I didn't have time and wasn't dressed appropriately to worship there, but it still felt so peaceful to walk around the grounds. I was impressed to see that the stained glass windows appeared to honor the beautiful patterns I'd seen on traditional fabrics, and a simple Christmas display reminded me how skewed my priorities had become.
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| Window of the Accra Ghana temple |
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| Christmas display at the Accra temple |
As I was getting ready to leave, a woman approached me and introduced herself. She was there with her congregation, and had taken a long van ride to get there and they were preparing for the long drive back. I learned that she was a recipient of a PEF (Perpetual Education Fund) grant which really impressed me; I'd contributed to the fund before but had never met anyone who was a grantee. It was great to see the difference it was making in her life. But as we talked she said something that stuck with me: "God's timing is the best timing." She was referring to my marital status, but given the timing of our meeting I felt like it worked on multiple levels. I got a quick picture with my Ghanaian sister in the gospel before heading back to the hotel.
By this point I was starving and the hotel buffet didn't disappoint, but of all the wonderful dishes it was a simple piece of sliced fruit that dazzled me: passion fruit. I love the flavor, but had never had the fresh fruit before. I tried not to act too excited and to save some for the other guests, but both were struggles.
With a short time left before our return to the airport, I sat by the hotel pool, enjoying the warm weather and reflecting on everything I had to be grateful for in this unexpected layover. Back at the airport, we had a fun parade through immigration (i.e. exiting a country we'd never officially entered). And as it turned out, the passengers who were the first to get on the shuttles went to a hotel in another area that wasn't as nice as the one I was sent to, and probably didn't go by the temple. God's timing might baffle and frustrate me, but in the end it's always a gift.
