A Sunny Sunday Morning

For those of you whose weather is turning to cold, I apologize for this entry, but it is beautiful weather here in Liberia these days. You must understand that after enduring months of unbreaking, unending rainfall, torrential at that, I am so excited to see the sun. True in a few weeks, I'll be complaining about how my clothes stick to me, and about how I'm continually sweating, but for now, I bask in the glow of the sun.

The group of six that we have had with us for the past few months are returning home in a week. It will be strange to see them go, and because we are hosting this UK soccer team right, I fear it will be a quick hug and goodbye on my part. We have realized in the past month and a bit how much we have relied on some of these individuals, and have realized what a huge part they have played in our programming. Both on a personal level, and a work level, they will be missed tremendously. The house that I have occupied with them, will seem quite empty next week.

As part of their "debrief", we decided to head out to Robertsport, an approximately three hour drive from Monrovia. It has not been possible till now to visit it, as the weather has kept us back, as well as the fact that the rubber plantation that is close has been inhabited by ex-combatants. Until recently, and the UN movement to disperse them out of the area, it has not been considered one of the safer places to visit. Its NorthWest of Monrovia along the coast but one must travel first inland and then back out to the coast to reach there. Liberia has many of these places that have great potential to be touristy, and Robertsport is just one of those places.

When you first arrive, you truly feel that you are in the south part of the States, and again, like other places, you have the feel of, "this must have been quite the place before the war" feeling. Massive churches with stain glass windows sit atop at least two of the higher places in the city. Windows on the houses have shutters, and although the paint is chipping, it was once a brightly coloured town. We drove through it fairly quickly on our way out to the beach, but at one point as you climb up a hill, you can look back and see this penninsula stretching out into the sea with sandy beaches all around it. It's a magnificent place.

We found our beach spot, and quickly set up our tent. We all changed into our suits, grabbed the three surf boards and headed to a place they call "loco" beach. It's 20 minutes walk along beautiful beach, with one detour into the bush to avoid the crashing waves over the black lava type rocks. We bushwacked our way through to the other side, to find a great little section of beach to both enjoy the sun and the surf.

I am getting old!!! Yes, I am, because as I looked at the waves crashing to shore, with one huge massive rock standing out of the sea on my right, and two hundred meters to the left more rocks, I thought, "no way, I'm going to bash myself against that mother of a rock and I'll be done". Where this fear comes from, I don't know, because I'm usually the first person to jump in and get going. This time, I stood on the beach, surf board under arm, looking out to the waves and for just a moment, and I thought, "nope, not going to do it...it's not worth it". I quickly came to my sense, ran into the water, jumped on the board and paddled out.

You have to understand that I cannot surf, not do I have any claim to being able to do so. But, the very cool thing, as opposed to the area that we surf near out house, was that this place actually allowed you to get beyond the surf, rest, and then come into a wave. It was absolutely beautiful to just sit out on the board, and look at the waves as they crashed into shore. I have never been that strong of an advocate or that passionate about learning to surf until this moment.

I waited and then chose my wave...I paddled with all my strength and before I knew it, I was in the wave. Now the problem was getting to my feet. I also switched recently from a huge beginner board to this tiny, needlenosed board, and so I found myself holding on, trying desperately to get to my feet, but both my lack of strength and the sheer power of the wave, I was only able to ride it in on my belly. As I got near shore, I realized that I was going to land hard on the sand. Sure enough I came in and then got booted off of it, only to be thrown onto my back, and then washed over by a huge wave that then scrapped my body over the sand. I stood up, hair dripping over my eyes, totally shell shocked, with a huge red rash on my back. But you know what, IT WAS AMAZING!!!