I could be Amish.

Oh man.... Laundry is the worst. I mean, I'm not gonna lie, I don't rub my clothes as hard as they do on the wash board because a. I'd like to keep my finger tips b. because it hurts every muscle in my body and c. I'd prefer my underwear to not be stretched out to the size of parachutes. It's not cute. Some times my ma will come over and put some elbow grease into washing my clothes and a little part of me dies as I watch the sweet threads of my Target Tees cry. I thought I was losing weight but then I remembered that my clothes increase a size with every wash. Sometimes when no one is looking, I just swirl my clothes around in the bucket like a washing machine and then call it good.... Works at home so it should be fine, right? 

Hahah shoot, this life. Though it probably sounds like I'm complaining, I am loving every second of it. I am not only getting into really good shape and getting a tan but I am also learning that I could survive in an Amish community and that kind of makes me feel good about myself. Also, If I was stranded on an island, I think I could survive.... Thanks Liberia. 

Well, it's safe to say I'm learning more than I ever thought possible and I am constantly reminded how much I like this country and all it's strange quirks. Minus the mice. I hate them. 

Moral of today's story, I miss Tide Pods.

I travelled in a Barbie shoe.

Traveling in Liberia I am pretty sure, is actually a form of a circus act. The taxi does not leave until they have literally packed the car completely full, meaning minimum of 4 people in the back seat and 2 in the passenger seat. In most cases, one in the trunk (ironically called VIP) and one on the roof. These cars do not have ac and sometimes don't have working windows.... Meaning, it's hotter than a coal left in a fire for a week. You can bond quicker with a person in one car ride than many people can do in their lifetime. With this background on taxis, I'd like to share my trip back from Monrovia.

It's 1:30, heat of the day and you can cut the air with a knife due to the humidity. When we finally get our taxi, approximately the size of a small Barbie shoe, we start piling in. We get 4 people in the back seat and the driver says "we can fit one more." What? No. But he manages to fit another in. My butt cheek is now touching everyone in this car and the smell of body Odor and bad decisions are miserable. The car is making this strange giggle noise and makes a crazy "eeerrrrk sqeeeek" every time he shifts. To which I say "we aren't making it." Alas, we continue on. I finally can't handle the heat anymore and need to roll my window down stat, but the window roller is MIA. I ask the driver if there is any way I can roll down the window and he conveniently hands me my missing window roller, which he so thoughtfully decided to hide for the first 20 minutes. -_- 30 minutes into our drive, our tire is  being held on by a string, a toothpick and by the graces of God and eventually we have to stop to fix it. However, "fixing it" doesn't mean actually fixing it... He just kicked it a couple times and wiggled it.... Every bump in the road, the driver would stick his head out the window to make sure our tire was still there. I'm honestly shocked it lasted the whole way. Half way into our journey, by the graces of the traveling gods, I manage to fall asleep. It was short lived as our Barbie shoe does a cannonball into a large puddle which sprays me in the face with dirty water, most likely laced with urine.... I honestly considered opening the door and falling to my death because it seemed like a much better option.... Luckily, I remembered I had brought chex mix and my survival skills were regained.... We made it safely back to Kakata but it took about an hour to regain the feeling back in my butt.

On the bright side, though traveling is uncomfortable and miserable, there is something about being in a taxi for 2 hours and only having to pay around $2 usd.... American taxis charge you more than that to breath in their presence. For that, I am thankful!
Liberian taxi:1
Dani:0

Do it...for the children.

Tonight I came home to snails and peppers for dinner. This is the second time this week that I've had snails and I didn't have tissues to hide them in.... Sweet Mary, I ate an entire dinosaur sized snail tonight. It was the equivalent of eating a Firestone tire except more spicy. I think my host ma is on to me because she sat and watched me eat it and then left after it was gone.... All I kept thinking was "protein, protein, protein." After eating rice all day every day, I can't be picky when it comes to protein and/or vegetables. I got white girl wasted on a cucumber the other day because it was the first non-oil soaked thing I've had since I've been in Liberia. They love oil so much here, the other day I saw my ma take a swig out of the oil bottle on her own terms.... No one forced her... She just was feeling parched and decided oil would be the best bet because why not? When in Liberia, I suppose.

Well tonight, after forcing down 2 snails and a dish spicier than Enrique Iglesias, I played some (non-American) football....aka soccer.... With my neighbors and brothers. They doubted my ability and put me in the furthest corner possible and told me, "if the ball come to you, dress small and we will kick. We want to beat." Meaning "if the ball comes to you, Move your butt in the opposite direction so we can actually win this game." This wasn't going to work for me.... Nope. I had an audience of about 15 who were all saying "white woman like to play with children." So I decide to "show off" a bit with my sweet soccer moves.... Mother eff, the ball flies to me, Prince aka P money aka my neighbor yells "LEAVE IT!" To which I say "I do not understand you!" And I kicked the crap out of that ball.... I'm surprised I wasn't asked to go professional after a kick like that.... However, after my 3 seconds of glory, I then address the issue of "that ball isn't going towards the net." Nope. Instead it was soaring into the sweet face of the 3 year old I had scared to death the other day due to my whiteness. WHAT? Out of all 38 children around, it had to be the nugget that is terrified of white people. -_- to make matters worse, the audience went from "white woman play with children" to "white woman kick ball at baby." Ughhh the struggle is real. I'm getting sent back to America. Haha

But I'm not gonna lie, I giggled to myself for a solid 3 min after this. I love when that happens.
Moral of this story, when you are told to sit and pick grass in the corner of the field, just do it....for the children.

I saw a child poop in a bag.

This blog has nothing to do with me seeing a child pooping in a bag.... But just know that it did happen and that's a sight that will never go unseen...

The real issue at hand is that 87% of the time Liberians talk to me I just nod and smile because I have NO CLUE what they are saying. Just when I think I have a decent grasp on Liberian English, I go into the market and am completely lost. Liberian English is a combination between heavy slang, leaving off most endings of words and adding an -o to the end of everything.

Example: "morning-o"
Why you may ask? No clue... But I know that I like it a whole lot. It really jazzes up a word and gives it some spice. The day could be fine OR it can be FINE-O. Insta word pizazz. In addition to adding O's, Liberians also say "thank god!" In response to many things. You ask them how their day was and they respond, "thank god!" This response still throws me off.... I feel like I get a stupid look on my face as I wait in anticipation as to why we are thanking god. Alas, there is no explanation.... Just a thanks..  So Thank God for that?

A few Liberian English phrases that I find exceptionally great:
"Don't eat my eyeball."- don't rip me off
"You dry."- you're skinny.
"I need to check the tire."- can you pull over so I can pop a squat in a bush?..... Because I'm a lady.
"How's da body?"- have you been working out Dani? You look like a young Jennifer Anniston.. Jk I think it means how's your health? (Still not sure of this one, so I like to flatter myself instead).

So ya Liberian English is fun. I wish they had a Speak and Spell *Liberian English* addition...someone please invent this and send it my way? Along with a chipotle burrito and a Kitkat. :)

OH side note, so far I have made 4 children cry because they are terrified of me..... Because I'm white. It is the funniest/saddest thing ever. The first couple I felt bad but now I'm realizing that this is the BEST GAME EVER. It's like having the scariest Halloween costume ever and having all night entertainment but without the costume and it's EVERY DAY. I came home yesterday and this little boys eyes practically popped out of his head when he saw me. It was like he saw freaking Sasquatch..... Which isn't far from the truth because shaving sucks but that is not the point... The point is, he cried and hid from me.... Did I chase him? Yes... But only because his ma told me to for the sake of a good laugh. That poor child will forever be terrified of white people. Sorry small child, you can thank your mother for that one.... And God, always thank God.

Until next time, eat a chipotle burrito for me.

Small small water

Small-small water

My day consists of 4 very important things: 1. Eating 2. Filling up my water filter 3. Doing my laundry and 4. Using the restroom.

These tasks seem simple but alas.... You must remember, I am living in the Stone Age era. What do I mean by the Stone Age ( you may be wondering?).... I mean that in Liberia, cooking, getting water, washing clothes and flushing toilets are no walk in the park. The well is approximately 23 water spills, 6 trips and 18 toe stubs away from my house... Aka, Zanpea needs a pedicure and a massage STAT! I hate when I take the lid off my water bucket and see that it is bone dry. Now, I would say I'm in good shape... I dabbled around the gym before I left and sometimes did some push ups but until you have to draw a bucket of water up from a well and then carry it up a hill back to your house multiple times a day, you don't know "working out." The worst part is, is you need water for EVERYTHING. You want to cook? You need water. Dishes? Water. You have to poop? Water.  You are thirsty? Water. It is a vicious cycle that is whipping me into shape real quick. I've been reading Harry potter and if there is a spell to make water appear, I need to learn it because buff dani is not a cute dani.... I'm going to look like the hulk when I return. Beware.

However, besides the struggle of not having running water, my family turned on the generator for the first time since I moved in, the other night. It was GLORIOUS. I got to shower WITH A LIGHT and do my readings WITH A ROOM LIGHT. My headlamp felt abandoned but I refused to care because I am selfish. Oh man. It's amazing when you are separated from the small things in life for a while, when you have them again, you realize how great they are. I will never take lights or running water for granted again.... The day that I don't have to be conscious of how many toilet paper squares I am using will be magical. Moral of today's story: enjoy the simple things in life because life gets a whole lot harder without them.

I ate a hamburger for america.

Yeah that's right a freaking hamburger. Sweet Mary mother of Jesus it even had cheese on it. Let's get something straight, its only been three weeks but my food cravings are out of control. I am like a drug addict withdrawing from drugs, but instead from lack of beautiful, glorious, preservative packed american food. I would eat a pouch of red dye #40 if I had the opportunity because let's face it, at this point, anything is better than rice and soup. The other day I found a Secret pack of m&ms hiding ever so delicately in my bag and I straight up got white girl wasted off them. You would have literally thought I won the lottery with the amount of excitement that poured out of me. They sell m&ms here, but that's besides the point. ANYWAYS back to my hamburger. It was the most beautiful display of dead cow I have ever seen, topped with cheese and joy. It was great. In Addition to eating hamburgers to celebrate our American heritage, we also played soccer in the pouring rain. Well, I just squished my toes in mud and dodged the ball and thought about food... My teammates did pretty well though. Go team. Moral of today's story, a hamburger is the way to my heart. Also, this is a very ADD blog. Not sorry. PS if you are a food picture poster, I will find you and I will make you eat a chicken foot because I hate you. Unless you send me snacks and nutella.... For the children... But really for me....PS (again) I love america. Someone drink a beer and flush a toilet for me. ADD SLEEP DEPRIVED DANI OUT.