Remembering To Move Forward

They say that a picture is worth a thousand words.  But the words that pictures can speak are not just content, they are often heart, soul, connection and deep memories that have perhaps been filed away and forgotten.  Some things within us are just waiting to be re-awakened by an old picture.  I don't know how many times I've looked at an old photo and thought, "Wow!  I totally forgot about that!  What a great memory!"  This isn't a luxury available to most Liberians.


Those of you who have lost pictures in a fire or flood or some other disaster can relate to the pain of not having your wedding photos or high school yearbooks available anymore.  I've been told it feels like you've lost a connection with some part of yourself that can no longer be accessed without those visual aides.  You can probably relate to this aspect of Liberian suffering.  Liberians have lost most of their photographic record.


Not only did Liberians have their pictures destroyed in the war by having to flee and leave them exposed to bombings, fire, rain, and other forms of mayhem; some Liberians actually had to go through the painful process of destroying these memories with their own hands!  You see, to be identified with a certain tribe, organization, education level, etc. could mean that you would be put to death.  One friend of ours was killed after rebels stopped him and asked him to write his name on a wall.  When he demonstrated this ability they shot him.  It was better to destroy all evidence of affluence, connection and education than to make yourself a target.  Therefore, people burned these memories and with them part of Liberia's history was lost forever.


Several years ago I was contacted by a Liberian friend that I have known for over 35 years.  His name is Floyd Morgan.  As a child I used to play everyday with Floyd and his brothers Melvin and Garmondeh.  He is among the majority of Liberians that no longer have pictures of their past.  He had no clear recollection of what he and his brothers looked like as children.  That was about to change...


It was while going through an old shoebox of photos from Liberia I came across a picture that caused me to jump for joy.  It was a pic of the Morgan boys as small children.  I couldn't wait to email this to Floyd.  I did.  The picture caused quite a stir among their family!  They were overjoyed to have this piece of their family history restored.  They printed off the picture and made copies and showed it to relatives.  They were amazed at how they looked at that age.  They had all the same sort of experiences we have when we see an old pic of ourselves, except it was magnified many times over due to the tragic circumstances they've suffered since the picture was taken.

"Childhood Friends" L to R:  Melvin, Floyd, me, Garmondeh

I am happy to report the small miracle that all of the Morgan boys lived through the brutal Civil Wars in Liberia.  Their stories are heart wrenching and difficult to process.  The lingering trauma has to be heavy for them to carry.  This pic provided a small relief and caused them to remember that there was a time when things were better, or at least seemed to be better. They had access to those allusive "good old days".  


This picture brought some healing with it.  Perhaps this seems trivial to those of us who are inundated with image overload on a daily basis, but the power of these historical records is immeasurable and life changing. As Sando Moore, a Liberian photojournalist who lost all of his photo archives in the wars, said, "If you don't know where you come from.  How can you know where you are going?"  Indeed.  


This is why I was excited to come across Liberia77 while researching Liberia online.  This organization was founded by two Canadian boys that grew up in Liberia in the 70's (much like my brother and I had).  They also had a treasure trove of Liberian photos and when they showed President Sirleaf their favorite pic of Liberia she urged them to put out the call for more.  The president understood the significance of showing Liberia what Liberia once looked like before she was ravaged by war.  I sent their organisation some of our pictures.  One was even selected as an editor's pick!  It is a cause worth checking out and a site worth exploring.

Back to the Morgan boys.... Some 35 years after that first picture was taken I was back in Liberia and in contact with Floyd.  It was surreal to see him again and he promised to contact his brothers who were also living in Monrovia.  It was like stepping back into childhood when all three of the Morgan boys pulled up at the Paynesville home where we were staying.  They carried a printed version of our childhood pic in their hand.  I presented them with framed and blown up copies I had made at Kinko's before coming over.  One for each of them and one for their mother to remember how her children once looked.  We laughed and hugged and caught up a bit.  We also reenacted our poses from 35 years earlier.  What an amazing memory!  The power of that picture was working on us, empowering us, re-connecting us and perhaps even reaching out and speaking to you as well.

"35 Years Later" L to R:  Melvin, Floyd, me and Garmondeh (I had trouble getting into the same pose -- knees and hips aren't what they used to be!)

Keeping Things Clean(ish)

With not much in the way of water, sewer, electric, trash pick up, etc. one may wonder how things are kept clean in Liberia.  Sometimes they are not and this leads to health problems as sewage and refuse in the streets provide breeding grounds for all kinds of unpleasant microbes.  However, most Liberians are very clean and hygienic people (for example, the Bassa people we lived with ritualistically take two "baths" a day, one in the morning and one at night).  We could learn a lesson from Liberians who are expert on staying clean in that climate under those conditions.  

My Dad and his improvised bucket bath.  This worked because we had electric and put an electric donut heater in the bucket
if you do this "Remember to unplug the donut before turning it on or you'll get shocked!"

On my last trip to Liberia I found that whether I was in Grand Bassa, Montserrado, or Cape Mount that there was a standard ritual for keeping clean.  (If you are the type staying in the luxury hotels in Monrovia this won't necessarily apply, but you might want to be aware in case you get stuck without electric as has been known to happen.)  Water is either drawn or pumped from a well or in some cases through "tap".  It is then heated and because of the lack of electricity in Liberia it is usually heated over a charcoal stove in a metal bucket.  After reaching a boiling hot temp a portion is poured into another bucket filling it 1/4 to 1/3 full of extremely HOT water.

A typical charcoal stove on which water is heated and food is cooked.

Next, you would take your partially filled bucket to a bathroom which will have some privacy if you're lucky.  If you're back in the bush you will probably have to go behind a wall woven together with palm branches that leaves a lot of gaps in between the weaving.  I usually throw a lappa or my towel over the wall to cover these gaps.  Usually people won't watch, but a lot of times kids are interested in what white people look like without clothes.  Whatever your bathing facility may be there is usually a community barrel of lukewarm water there that is kept covered from rats and mosquitoes.  It might just be rainwater if you're in the bush.  In the barrel is usually kept a cup just floating on the water.  You use this cup to add lukewarm water to the scalding water until your bucket water reaches the desired temperature.

This is actually a classroom space for bush school, but the palm branch wall construction is typical of bathrooms as well

After you have your bucket ready you drop your washrag in the water to get it wet.  I used a chamois rag because it was easier to dry.  Next you lather it up with your preferred soap and wash as usual.  I liked Dr. Bronner's liquid soap and picked up the Eucalyptus scent as it seemed to help a bit in keeping mosquitoes away and it also worked well as my shampoo.  Speaking of shampooing, that is done by taking your cup and filling it with water from your bucket and dumping it on your head.  Once your hair is wet you just shampoo like usual.  


Now that you are all soapy you begin to take the cup and repeatedly fill it up from the bucket and dump it all over yourself.  I liked to save a 1/4 of the bucket so that after I was rinsed off I could just lift up the bucket and dump the whole thing on me at once and at least get the feeling like I was taking a shower.  I recommend doing this "bucket bathing" at least once a day and if you only do it once I'd do it in the evening as it seemed to help me relax.

If you're lucky you can get a ringer washer to help
Lookout for your fingers!

What about clothes?  Usually these are dumped in a large washtub with what is called "iron soap".  You'll hear ladies with tubs full of iron soap walking about selling these little balls of hard, white soap.  It might sound to you like they are calling "Eye yuh so!  Geh yuh eye yuh so!" and if they have bigger balls of soap it will sound they are calling "Baby eye yuh so" or "big, big iron soap".  The clothes are lathered up and wrung out just like you would clean a shirt in the sink.  It takes strong hands to do a whole load and usually a whole day is devoted to getting the laundry done.  The clothes are left to dry in the sun, so rain and potential thieves can determine how and when you do this. 

Laundry Day at the Vogel's.  If it rains they don't dry and if someone steals them their gone!

Teeth are cared for by whatever you bring and your main concern will be the water that you use to brush your teeth.  I used filtered water through the water filter I brought or bottled water I bought at market in Liberia.  You'll just have to dump water from your bottle over the bristles when your done to rinse them off.  I have used Dr. Bronner's as toothpaste before as well, which cuts down on baggage space, but tastes kind of strange.  If you get a chance you can try a Liberian "toothbrush", which is actually just a root like stick that they chew on and it seems to keep their teeth strong and healthy.

The beard on week 6

As far as shaving goes I just didn't shave.  I grew out my beard which was pretty fun.  Beards are usually for older men so it kind of made me look like a wannabe chief.  Just like in the US, most women didn't like it and most men did, what matters is if you like it.  If you're a woman you can do what you like, but I would call it a shaving optional culture for women (sort of like Lollapalooza).  Most men do shave over there but if you can grow a nice one, go for it!


After doing a 6 week trip to Liberia last summer I really enjoyed just standing under the hot shower.  O, the little things!  Liberia will help you appreciate them :-)

The Gods Of Ɓǎkèɓiɖ́í

Ɓǎ "Father" at the  Ɓǎ kè dà  site
photo by Ken Vogel

The children of the village screamed in terror when they saw me.  It had been about 20 years since a kùìpúú (kwee-poo - white person) had entered this village and that was the first time many had seen someone so light skinned.  I was told that some of the children thought we were spirits as white chalk is sometimes painted on people around those parts when they transition through "Bush School".  During this time they are considered invisible, or dead to the world, or somehow in a different spiritual realm.  The secret societies that oversee these schools have 'eaten' the child and once school is over they are considered adults and ready for marriage.  Until they are finished with this school they are painted white.  Therefore we appeared to some to be walking ghosts.  No wonder they were terrified!


I was 12 when we entered this village called Ɓǎkèɓiɖ́í (Bawe kaye blee) in the Moweh region of Grand Bassa County (now River Cess).  On the trek I saw and heard a "wudu" bird that had been known to swoop down and carry small children (from what I was told) and in the village I touched electric jungle catfish.  I plan on sharing more about some of the strange creatures I've either seen or heard about in this mostly unexplored part of the world.  However, today I want to share a particular memory about this village that I'll just call Bahkebli in case your browser doesn't support my Bassa font.

Dà "Mother" at the  Ɓǎ kè dà  site
photo by Ken Vogel

The day after we arrived we were taken a mile or so outside of the village to their old sacred spot called Ɓǎ kè dà (Bawe Kaye Dawe; Father and mother (in-law)).  It consisted of two gigantic boulders that rose above the surrounding jungle.  In days past these boulders were worshiped as "Father" and "Mother" of the village.  In between the two boulders were many smaller rocks that were called their 'children".  There was also a flat rock area where they offered sacrifices.  Usually food and animals, but they spoke of people being tied there as well.  They didn't go into details and I'm not sure if it was a sort of fertility ritual between the Zo (priest) and a maiden of the village and/or if it included actual human sacrifice.  Whatever the case, these rituals where how they 'fed' their gods and kept them happy.  


Imagine that you were taking these pictures for a moment and then turned directly behind yourself 180 degrees.  There you would see a mountain rising above the Liberian rainforest.  I was told that if the proper sacrifice was not made or if someone tried to dishonor these gods (or their Zo) that they would be taken to this mountain.  There were caverns in this mountain and the offender would be forced to enter the caverns and face the power of these gods within.  The guide told me that people would get lost in those caves and go crazy.  I'm not sure how they knew that as I also got the impression that anyone who entered those caves would never be seen again.  Perhaps someone escaped at one point and was found insane?  

In the forefront is the chief of Doedehn - Old Man Droh - who led us to Bakebli
photo by Ken Vogel

Whatever the case, these memories left quite an impression on a 12 year old boy and I hope to someday go back and document and more fully verify these tales.  I have so many questions I would like to ask.   I wonder if the town still exists after the Civil War?  I wonder how the people are doing?  I remember they were happy to be out from under the fear of these hungry rock gods and the dread of those caverns of insanity that awaited any who offended their Zo. It was an amazing trek and one I will definitely never forget!