When the Public Affairs Officer at the US Embassy contacted the principal of Zwedru Multilateral High School, where the American Corner Library was located, he mentioned that a former Peace Corps Volunteer was returning to Zwedru for an embassy project. Joshua Dorbor immediately asked, “Is it Phillip Martin?” You’d be right if you thought the embassy guy was surprised. The world was even smaller when I mentioned to the Public Affairs Officer that Joshua was on my list of six people I especially hoped to find while in Zwedru.
Timing could have been better. Joshua and four high school students from Zwedru were on their way to a youth conference in the United States. While I was in Liberia, they’d be in Washington D.C., Chicago and Portland, Oregon. I think those kids will be in for more culture shock than me. I suggested that they must try cinnamon buns while in the Washington D.C. airport. It’s one of the “must-do” things as soon as you land on American soil.
As I traveled east across Liberia, Joshua and his students traveled west. Our paths crossed in the absolute middle of nowhere in the bush. Of course, neither of us looked 26 years older! Or, if he did, I was simply too excited to notice. The reunion was short, but it was a treasured moment in Liberia. I just need to return again when he will be in the country. And, yes, the hint was dropped so the Public Affairs Officer is well aware of my wishes. I have learned, it never hurts to ask.
The first half of the trip from Monrovia to Ganta was paved roads. The second half of the trip from Ganta to Zwedru was one hundred and fifty miles of dirt if you’re lucky and mud if you hit it on a rainy day. Dirt is to be preferred.
Every place I knew along the journey was unrecognizable. I remembered the dust and bumps, but none of the towns looked the same. One shock was in Tappita. The main road in the city was paved! It was a glorious change of pace after hours of bumping and bouncing. When he hit the dirt road again, I suggested we double back and take that smooth road one more time. The driver didn’t seem to understand that I was more than half-way serious.
About a half hour away from Zwedru was the no longer quaint and tiny village of Zlehtown, where Joshua used to live. I used to go there when I needed an escape from Zwedru and wanted to see Joshua’s friendly face. I remember one particular visit when I was torn between what I knew I should do and what I had to do.
My visit had been a big chunk of the day. I saw rain clouds a coming and I knew it was time to leave. However, I hadn’t yet eaten with Joshua and his family. In Liberia, you don’t let a guest leave unfed. You just don’t do that. Neither Joshua nor his wife were pleased about my departure. So, against my better judgment, I decided I better eat and not offend. However, meal preparation hadn’t even started. There was no electricity, no microwave oven, no conventional oven, no speedy appliances. You cook everything over a coal pot with charcoal. Preparation can take hours.
In those hours, the rains came and went. It wasn’t any gentle spring misting. The tropical downpour turned the dusty red road into a slippery mire of mud and snot. The normal road conditions that were already hazardous on my motorcycle became close to impossible after the rains. There were a couple of hills that I honestly thought I’d never get over. It was too slick to walk the motorcycle and every few feet of driving caused me to fish-tail and fall over. Not only was I bruised, I was so frustrated that I was raised to be so polite. No matter how good the food was, and cassava leaves were my favorite dish, it wasn’t worth the nightmare trip home.
Just to give me a gentle reminder of my Peace Corps days, it rained on this trip as well. I recognized the same hills that caused me so much grief in the past. They still haven’t been improved. There were moments when I seriously doubted that our four-wheel drive Land Cruiser was going to successfully meet the challenges it faced. This was after one day of rain. Imagine the rainy season when Zwedru was unreachable for two or three months! Fortunately, nobody had to get out in muck and push a truck. We were delayed a couple of hours but, eventually, I finally made it home to Zwedru.
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