Abraham

In the week before I left Sierra Leone, I wanted to visit the beaches. I felt extremely nervous about my options for getting there. I was hoping James could help me charter a car inexpensively, but we only found a driver willing to do it for a very high price. James had his own private driver and twice it worked out that I could use him, for the cost of gasoline, to get through Freetown. The first day I did this I caught a poda to Godrich Village. Catching one further on to River #2 proved problematic. I ended up in a car with a driver who took me far off from the taxi area – which I had no way of knowing - to negotiate a price. He wasted much of my time trying to negotiate an extremely inflated price. In frustration I called James to ask him to speak to the driver, but James just repeated that he had told me this would happen if I tried to visit the beach. I agreed to an inflated price, but the driver’s car broke down and we had to return any way. Unfortunately not before being stopped by the police. The bizarre site of a white girl alone in a car was clearly enough to make them stop us out of curiosity. At first they may have been trying to discern whether the driver was out to kidnap me, but the interrogation quickly disintegrated into questioning on whether I was married and could they have my phone number and come the beach or New York with me. The driver enjoyed the attention and I managed to end the conversation by continually looking the other way and not responding to their questions (since rudely responding had no effect). The police became embarrassed and let us go.
Fortunately the driver returned my money and left me at the proper car park. Standers-by arranged a ride for me with an honest driver. This driver, realizing their dubious nature, refused to stop when police signaled us to pull over. I had no trouble until I tried to leave the beach. A young man had been following me around River #2. I forcefully told him to go his way and he did, but then he took the same poda back to Godrich as I. I ending up speaking with him at length. Abraham had a masters in teaching from Fourah Bay and was tri-lingual. An older American woman he had met on the beach had agreed to pay for his education. He told me he was not interested in teaching because the pay was so low. He pressed hard for me to agree to hire him to keep house for my home in the United States. Given that I live in a one bedroom and own four plates I tried to convey how unnecessary that would be. He argued that Africans could only be responsible for small jobs. This was a sentiment I heard frequently in Sierra Leone. All I knew to do was state that I didn’t agree, I saw Sierra Leoneans doing great things, and to point out he had more education than I did, knew more about languages, and that I believed he had a responsibility to teach.
We arrived at car park where you need to catch a new poda to continue into Freetown. It became clear to him that I had no idea how to find a poda back into Freetown. He offered to go with me back into the city even though it was far outside his destination. I may have made it back without his help, but certainly not before dark and certainly not without relying on the help of others instead. One mistake I was continually making was in not attempting to ‘make a friend’ as soon as I arrived somewhere new. This is very un-American. We take great pride in our individualism and doing things on our own. But when there are no posted signs or a set of commonly understood rules and infrastructure to abide by, this does not work. My driver would immediately befriend a new person when we arrived somewhere new. He needed an ally to find the correct turnoff, a parking spot, and a lunch.