Streets of stalls and patches of pavement.

Little boy casually chilling in a tree.

Flomo and Jamie trying their hand at cutting the grass outside the Gbarnga YMCA.

Good ol' artistic photo of some red ants.

Down the busy main road, Broad Street in Gbarnga.

Colourful lappas in a stand on the side of Broad Street.

Ganta Highway

Things I love about Liberia:

• Street food

Although nearly all food here is good (except Fufu, not a fan), the street food in particular is amazing! There's something about stopping a women, man or child with a bucket balanced on their head filled with various delights that's just so satisfying. If I see a bucket of pineapple slices on the other side of the street, all you do is suck your teeth (everyone's way of attracting someones attention here) and they'll womble over to you. The pineapple is so fresh and delicious but then so is the rice bread (banana bread). And the ginger doughnuts. Or the corn bread. You can even get little clusters of popcorn if that's your kind of thing.

We have also found the Liberian pasty. Jenkins has nothing on this little beauty, sorry Catrin. Behold the meat pie! Or as it basically is, a fish pasty. Its got a slightly less crumbly pastry and then a mixture of anonymous fish (and probably meat aswell, can't be too fussy) and some various herbs and vegetables.

Then there's the food you can get if you're feeling a little peckish after a few beers at the local Beams bar. No longer will I want a Turkish kebab or pizza in Carmarthen, I'll be pining for salad (the greatest coleslaw ever in my eyes) and grilled beef and fish.
Okay.
That's a lie.
I'd still choose a pizza over them, but whilst in Liberia where pizza is non-existent in Gbarnga and in Monrovia it costs nearly the same as a small house, it's a pretty satisfactory substitute.

• Gbarnga

Gbarnga itself is beautiful. Terracotta dusty roads bordered by lush green. Exactly how you picture Africa. And then the main high street is hectic rush of motorbikes, battered taxis and wheelbarrow wielding men. There are patches of paved road every now and then which gives you a glimpse of what it might have looked like before the civil crisis. Market stands, shops and little stalls line the road selling everything from chillies to sunglasses to phone top ups to fabrics to alchohol (very cheap alchohol I should add). The market that sits next to the street stretches back as far as I can tell for miles. It's just one massive maze of food - which I couldn't tell you what even half is - and random soaps and clothes and bits. And when the rain comes, the street just turns into a heaving river (slight exaggeration but who doesn't love a bit of that) and all the dirt roads just turn to slush and you can say goodbye to nice clean shoes, feet, legs and general self.

Welcome to Bong County

Well I've finally managed to get on the internet to make my next post! A lot harder than one might think. After a delayed flight and a night in the Hilton hotel (slept in style), we arrived in Monrovia on the 2nd of May. After a few nights in Monrovia and a new Liberian name, Sianah (pronounced See'n'ay), we drove to Gbarnga, Bong County. And when I say we drove, it was quite possibly, no, it was definitely the most uncomfortable five hour drive I've ever experienced. It was serious off road driving, like constant bumpy, Carys Mansfield's driveway, middle of nowhere, rough terrain driving; lets just say I think the suspension on most cars have been completely bumped out. You'd occasionally get to a strip of Chinese funded proper road and then you'd get blasted by the wind coming through the windows and then a serious bad hair day. To drive to Gbarnga (or anywhere in Liberia) you have to be a particularly skilled driver to assess the smoothest way around the road at a fair speed whilst watching not to drive into other drivers coming the other who may have chosen the same route as you. To be fair to the drive though, it was pretty amazing to see the countryside of Liberia, quite different to the countryside of good ol' Wales. To be fair to my but though, it was very glad to see Gbarnga and the idea of solid ground once again.

Our bumpy ride to Gbarnga, (with a cracked windscreen?!)

The bathroom situation is also very interesting. Due to the lack of running water in most of Liberia, there almost always is a big container filled with water. And because of this lack of running water, there obviously isn't any flushing loo. So, after you've deposited whatever in the loo, instead of the standard boring handle or button flush, its the throw-water-down-the-loo-with-enough-force-to-push-whatever-is-in-the-loo-down-the-pipe flush. So yeah. You can imagine the fun we've had with that. And then, I had my first bucket shower in Monrovia, and after my initial hesitation of throwing a bucket of cold water over myself, it was the nicest relief from the constant heat and humidity here. It is also quite an odd sensation getting out of the shower and wondering whether you're still wet from the water or whether you've just sweated through it already. How lovely. In Gbarnga, however, in the two guesthouses I've been in, I've had the luxury of actual real proper running water. Out of an actual real proper shower head. Absolute bliss.

The Gbarnga team with Mitchell, our Branch Coordinator.

And then this last weekend was my birthday. The three of us from Gbarnga and my ICV (In Country Volunteer), Vivian, travelled back to Monrovia for my celebrations. All of us crammed in the three seats in the back and another two travellers in the passenger seat at the front. Hot couldn't even describe it. The first taxi we caught broke down after 15 minutes and after 45 minutes and 15 Liberian motorist crowded around the engine, we set off again, shuddering. However, halfway there, the driver had to announce the car wasn't going to make it to Monrovia, so he set off and found another taxi to get us there. Again we set off, in a slightly funky smelling taxi and a new driver. When we arrived we met up with the other UK volunteers and then after a long week-end of "jolly-jolly" and a couple injuries sustained, we made our emotional goodbyes to them again and made our way back. And as one great man said, we had a"Gbarnging time in Monravia" J. Flomo Carter.

Our broken down taxi and Flomo looking tired. Poor Flomo.

Poor Flomo getting kicked in the head. Poor Flomo.

Finally, I'll leave you with this atmospheric, thoughtful photo of myself, gazing at the Liberia YMCA logo. Very artistic.

The Last Supper(s)

Writing this post, I’ve just returned from my last appointment of injections and as a treat I’ve got myself my last fish and chips for the next 3 months. This last week has been filled with “Last Suppers”. Takeaways with friends, mac & cheese and as my final FINAL supper on Tuesday night, a Tuesday roast (it’s not actually my last supper, but I think I’ll be too nervous to eat anything the night before).

Having returned from Tunisia, last Friday, Saturday was a rush of throwing sun creams, insect repellent, antibacterial hand gel and various medicine in the shopping basket in Boots, travel towels, sleeping bag liners, water purifiers and padlocks in the basket in Cotswolds and Cup’a’Soup and Malteaser hot chocolate in the basket in Tesco. Trying to work out how many insect repellent sprays I’ll need for the next 10 weeks is actually harder than it sounds - I went for 9 cans just to be safe - and I’ve not spent so much time contemplating between chicken, chicken noodle or mushroom Cup'a'Soup - I went for a selection of all three. The dining room has been converted into a packing room, all of Saturdays toiletries shopping on the right, clothes on the dining table, shoes, hats, and miscellaneous on the chairs. It's now time to start packing.

My nerves have amplified as my final days in the UK disappear and then constantly fluctuate between nerves, impatience and excitement. I feel very weird, as if I’m in no mans land. Not enough time to really do anything but so much time to fill before my flight on Thursday. Deflation is the word I think I’d use. I’ve been so busy the previous couple of months and now I have nothing else to say or do except get on the Liberia bound plane. I could try and find something else to buy or get to be ready but there comes a point when I have to just stop. 

Say goodbye. 

And leave.

Vaccinations, Viscose and Volunteering

To whoever comes across this blog, you may or may not know what I’ll be doing over the next few months. At the start of this year, I applied for a once-in-a-lifetime experience to volunteer for three months in Africa or Asia with VSO ICS (Volunteering Services Overseas International Citizen Service) where there are so many projects that desperately need people to help continue the fantastic work that they do. I was then told that I would be joining the YCare International team and will be working in Liberia on various projects alongside local volunteers to help young people get themselves out of poverty. I could be informing them on neglected health issues, helping them obtain skills to gain employment or encouraging them to campaign for better living standards.

I have to admit, when I was told that I’d be going to Liberia, I was slightly terrified that I was going to a country that’s civil war only really ended in 2003 and the news of the spread of Ebola in Guinea, Liberia's neighbor, did worry me. Dad’s comprehensive fact file on the Ebola virus and its current spread didn’t particularly help either. (Love you really Dad!) But since then, I’ve researched further, watched documentaries, read other traveler's blogs in Liberia and I feel excited to visit this amazing country that I feel I will be warmly welcomed into.

At the time of writing this first post, according to my countdown app, my departure to Liberia (and from home comforts) was 23 days, 7 hours and 4 minutes. AAAAAH! Nerves are kicking in and preparations are really starting to begin. I have myself a nice long checklist in my head for everything I need to get/do and I feel like a million miles from reaching the end of it when the airport is merely about 200 miles and 23 days away.

The last few weeks have been a scramble of visits to London, fundraising, sharing of my JustGiving page (which as it happens is www.justgiving.com/Olivia-Lamb1) and phone calls to the GP surgery. I’ve had to get so many vaccinations, I now feel like a pincushion. I really should’ve gotten sponsored to get all these injections, Hepatitis B vaccine especially. #Ow.

And from my shopping list for Liberia, I can now honestly say that I know the pros and cons of all types of fabric – viscose, cotton, linen, etc. I’ve never gone shopping and been so practical in my whole entire life. Too short. Too thick. Wrong fabric. Too posh. Inappropriate. Too expensive. Literally NEVER been this sensible. And who knew there were so many different choices and features of a rucksack. Too many choices!

But the training weekend in London has calmed a lot of my nerves (or as much as it can). I now know where I might find myself in a month’s time, who I might be with in a month’s time, what I might be doing in a month’s time. Knowing I’m not in it alone makes it a lot easier and now I’m just excited to get started with the projects and discover and explore my new home for the next 10 weeks.

But for now I still have my checklist to finish and multiple injections to be stabbed by, so my new home will have to wait a couple more weeks.

P.S. Here's a nice cheeky photo of me in my new YCare International T-Shirt!