Sometimes, the project manages you

It's worth noting that after a two-week extended stay in Robertsport, during which the Women's Sewing Cooperative met regularly under the giant cotton tree and checked in with me almost daily, showing me their progress, assuring me that they were measuring the straps and sides appropriately, and just saying hello, I haven't had a meeting with them in about two weeks. That means for Coop members used to making $20 a week sewing bags (beautiful ones, which you can buy here), there has been a sudden but temporary lull in their new income.

Before the Women's Sewing Cooperative gave them scissors, sewing needles, and new skills, most of them were what the World Bank calls "underemployed," meaning they might earn small sums for trading or selling fish, but that their income potential was being underutilized -- in simple English, they could be earning more. It's not as if African women are actually underemployed -- sourcing and preparing food, organizing water supplies and child care, cleaning, washing and all the other constant tasks of managing a family can hardly be called "underemployment." It's just that they weren't seeing any cash or formal compensation for their labors. Until now.

Putting the Women's Sewing Cooperative on a fortnight of temporary hold wasn't my intention when Nate and I took our Monrovia stay-cation, but it is benefiting Coop management. Before our break, we had one leader on suspension for accusatory outbursts and unnecessary drama during meetings. The younger members complained that the older women were hoarding fabric and not giving them the supplies to make more than a small number of bags per week. Meetings were filled with interruptions and although we'd agree on one thing, once the women were left on their own, they often decided not to follow instructions and sewed renegade, misshapen bags. Project management demanded patience.

Yesterday, my phone rang with an unknown number. Nate answered, spoke to a man for a moment and passed the phone to me. It was Bendu, our project leader, telling me she missed me and wondering if we're coming up to Robertsport this weekend. We are. I spoke to her for a moment, chatted about work and things, and then she passed the phone to Miriama, another Coop member, who said that she missed me and demanded my return to Robertsport this weekend. Then Miriama passed the phone to Matilda, who also missed me and was looking forward out our Saturday meeting. Then Jebbeh, then Botoe, and then the rest of them, only by then everyone was giggling at their repetitions and I was too, laughing at the idea of a bunch of Coop women organized and clustered around a pay phone kiosk, greeting me one by one and telling me to get back to them so they could keep making money. It was wonderful. I can't wait for Saturday.

Something I've been thinking about: three of the Coop women were training with me in the kitchen at Nana's a few weeks back. Although it's none of my business, I asked, and they weren't getting paid any extra for being there all day. Towards the end of our 10 days of cooking lessons, Botoe pointed out that the three of them wouldn't have any bags for me that week -- they'd been working all day in the kitchen. I realized what a sacrifice it had been for them -- well, sacrifice or strategic investment in the future, which is often the same thing -- to be there, learning from me and consciously taking a cut in their income to do so. I'm impressed with them. And I like it when they call.

A tour of the Roberstport hospital

Last week, Ansu -- a security guard at Nana's Lodge next door -- stepped on a massive nail covered in rust while brushing the area around the road. Incidentally, the request to brush was issued directly by the President herself when she visited last weekend, as apparently the encroaching bush was a bit unsightly. This, of course, has nothing to do with why Ansu stepped on the nail.

A resident missionary nurse, acting nanny for the On Surfari peeps' small children, immediately prescribed a tetanus shot and asked if I'd like to accompany her on a short visit to tour St. Timothy's, the hospital up the hill. She and her husband, over a period of years, have filled and shipped a container of medical supplies to distribute to at-need locations around Liberia -- quite a feat, when you think about it -- and she was interested in seeing if St. Timothy's qualified as being in-need.

When we arrived at the hospital on the hill, up an appalling dirt road that made me grateful I wasn't in an ambulance, we were greeted by the hospital administrators and shown around.

Now, it goes without saying that the St. Timothy's Hospital in Robertsport is not a place I ever, under even the best of circumstances, want to visit as a patient. But there was little crowding, clean conditions, clearly posted information and -- although it was a Sunday -- medical staff were visibly in attendance. Things could have been much, much worse.

What struck me most about the visit was the maternity ward. As I've mentioned elsewhere, Liberia has one of the highest maternal mortality rates in the world. If you're a Liberian woman, getting pregnant is one of the most dangerous things you can do. At St. Timothy's, when the missionary nurse asked what the OB/GYN needed, she immediately starting listing things like bedding -- simple sheets and blankets -- and delivery kits, as the hospital only has one. "When it gets busy here," she said shaking her head, "we only have one to sterilize and share between four or five women."

I'll go back and visit the hospital when I have some time on my hands and talk more to the OB/GYN about what we can do to improve their capacity. In the meantime, if anyone wants to send donations for me to buy things here, let me know. I'll do it and post back here on its impact.

October Beach Cleanup

We moved our beach cleaning forward by one week at the request of the On Surfari team, who wanted to document the event. Since neither the human race nor the ocean are running out of garbage, the beaches had already accumulated enough fresh trash to overpower and exhaust approximately thirty volunteers from the community.

I missed the first cleanup; but from what Elie says, there were fewer large pieces of plastic waste this time around, which may have contributed to the lower number of rice bags full of trash that we collectively gathered. Many people returned to help us for the second time in a row, including the traditional chief of the Uptown village and the RCW sponsored surfers (pictured below in a state of empty-wave induced distraction). The expatriate surf scene was also much better represented this time around.


The bag I am holding below probably weighs fifty or sixty pounds. In the three weeks between the last cleanup and the one depicted here, well over fifteen bags of this garbage washed up on a stretch of beach that is less than a kilometer long. If we had been patient enough to pick through all the shredded, soft plastic that results from the pinches of oil, kerosene, salt, and everything else that are sold to inhabitants of the poverty line for a few pennies, we could have filled another fifteen--and if we rounded the corner towards town and the armada of fishing boats, I can't imagine how many other bags we would have filled.

Even the day after the cleanup, a bag or more worth of new large filth was on our small stretch of stewarded beach. Thinking about those giant swirling masses of ocean waste is super depressing. How many bags would that be and then where would we put them?


Thanks to everyone for their help, support and participation! All photographs courtesy of Sean Brody.

Bags to riches

I have inherited my mother's love of puns. I have also inherited her desire to see women lift themselves out of poverty -- what ten young women from Robertsport are doing as members of the Women's Sewing Cooperative, sewing beach bags by hand that you can order here.

With your support, their numbers will grow. I look forward to a blog post in a month or so about the impact their additional income is having in their lives and the lives of their families.

Check out this article on the importance of women-focused development and support Liberian women by buying some bags!

We'll have smaller bags for sale and new patterns soon!

September 2009 budget update

Here's a summary of our September 2009 income and expenditures by project:

Robertsport Community Campsite
Income
Camping fees $35
Tent rental $30

Expenditure
Hammocks (3) $53
Stamps for the beach bag $18
Carbolene to keep insects off the signs $10

Sub-total -$16

Women's Sewing Cooperative
Income
46 beach bags $23

Expenditure
Beach bag tags $4

Sub-total $19

Surf Liberia Scholarship fundraising
10 shirts sold $50

Project summary
Robertsport Community Campsite -$16
Women's Sewing Cooperative $19
August 2009 Community Fund -$630.50
Surf Liberia Scholarship fundraising $50

Community Fund as of September 2009: -$627.50
Surf Liberia Scholarship money raised: $50

To support our projects and buy beach bags or Surf Liberia t-shirts, visit www.robertsportcommunityworks.org.

The Cotton Tree

Photos courtesy of Sean Brody.

This is the cotton tree that towers over the Robertsport Community Campsite, a piece of land that Robertsport Community Works is invested in conserving through the creation of a conservation easement. Conservation easements are legal agreements that restrict the usage of property. Ours would ensure that no permanent structures are built on the land, that no trees of a certain age be cut down, that indigenous species be encouraged and that the community of Robertsport retain access and usage rights. We're working on the details, so stayed tuned.

This is the tree that the American Colonization Society tied its ship to when it landed in Liberia in the late 19th century, the supposed spot where Joseph Jenkins Roberts, the first president of Liberia for whom Robertsport was named, stepped off.
It's estimated to be over 500 years old. It would have to be, in order for it to be big enough for the first Americo-Liberians to anchor their ship off of it. Trees like this often end up as raw materials for fishing boats. At Robertsport Community Works, we're starting to make a series of Cotton Tree t-shirts -- each batch the outline of a different ancient cotton tree -- to promote awareness and work towards their conservation. Email me if you want one or check out The African T-Shirt Company in a week or two for details.