{"id":9246,"date":"2015-02-20T14:39:07","date_gmt":"2015-02-20T19:39:07","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.tcnjmagazine.com\/?p=9246"},"modified":"2015-09-29T10:08:41","modified_gmt":"2015-09-29T14:08:41","slug":"ebola-ruined-everything","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.tcnjmagazine.com\/?p=9246","title":{"rendered":"Ebola Ruined Everything"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"Ebola
Illustration by Brian Hubble<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

I wanted to do some kind of service after college because I love helping others.<\/p>\n

I never had the drive to serve in the military, and I don\u2019t think I have the capacity to do it. My junior year, I heard some former Peace Corps volunteers discussing their experiences in Niger: the difficulties adjusting to a new culture, the horrors of travel, the successes of volunteering. They said it had changed their lives for the better. I decided then that the Peace Corps would be my chance to help the world.<\/p>\n

I wrote on my application that I\u2019d serve anywhere. When I received my acceptance letter, it said I was going to Sierra Leone, where English is the de facto official language. I immediately Googled \u201cWhere is Sierra Leone?\u201d I didn\u2019t know. Then I learned\u2014civil war, Amistad, blood diamonds. Malaria was there, but it wasn\u2019t a concern. Cholera hadn\u2019t broken out. Neither had Ebola.<\/p>\n

I was excited by the opportunity.<\/p>\n

Bomotoke, August 2012<\/h2>\n

During early summer training in Freetown, the capital city, I asked to be placed in the most remote village possible. I figured if I was going to do this, I wanted to go all the way. I was sent to Bomotoke, a village in the country\u2019s southern province, 40 miles from the nearest Peace Corps volunteer.<\/p>\n

I taught basic math at Charles Yimbo United Methodist High. It\u2019s a junior secondary school\u2014the equivalent of a U.S. middle school\u2014but I had students as old as 23. Many people there start school late because the country is still recovering from the civil war.<\/p>\n

For the first year, the school was functional. We had a principal, I could teach, and we got through a lot. But there was no funding for schools. No one cared for the school. It was dysfunctional. They forced my principal to retire while I was there and didn\u2019t hire a new one. Probably the hardest thing was that I never really got support from anyone in regard to the dysfunctional school situation\u2014but I tried. I tried and I tried.<\/p>\n

Growing up, I could look at my grandmother and my parents, all of whom had master\u2019s degrees, and see that education had helped them become successful. But in a village where no one has ever had an education, where no one has ever been successful, it\u2019s hard to say, \u201cSpend your money on education.\u201d Yearly tuition there is about $18, but that\u2019s hard to come by. Those statistics about how most of the world lives on less than a dollar a day? That\u2019s how it works there.<\/p>\n

September 2012<\/h2>\n
\"3
Illustration by Brian Hubble<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Mustapha was a 10-year-old kid in my village who lived with his mom and family. His father lived and worked in another village. Mustapha\u2014Staphi\u2014is a good-looking kid: He\u2019s got big eyes and gets really excited about anything. We\u2019d read books together every day. His primary school was rarely in session, because his teachers didn\u2019t show up for work. But I made him study math every day. He\u2019d come to my school with me and I\u2019d put him in the library with a book where he could practice. When I organized a summer school session, I picked him. He loved it, and he excelled. We started hanging out more, and pretty soon he was always at my house. Then he kind of weaseled into staying over at my house, saying, \u201cI\u2019ll stay here, I\u2019ll sleep on the floor, it\u2019s fine.\u201d Then he just started staying all the time.<\/p>\n

Staphi had never been outside a five-mile radius of his village, but I did my best to help him see Sierra Leone beyond those boundaries. We traveled to Bo and Freetown together. He saw cities, cars, nice homes, television. He went swimming at the beach and played soccer on the sand. Before that, he didn\u2019t know that the realities of life in Bomotoke aren\u2019t reality for everyone.<\/p>\n

I was like his dad. I bought him notebooks, pens, and pencils. I taught him to swim, and he became a better swimmer than me. For nearly a year, I fed him every day. Sometimes we would go fishing for small crabs to cook. Other times I\u2019d buy a box of macaroni in Freetown and, with grated cheese my father had sent from the States, Staphi and I would fashion an Italian feast with buttered toast. It was delicious.<\/p>\n

He soon went from being a kid in ripped clothes who had virtually nothing to a person who helped others. He\u2019d teach other kids to read because I had taught him how. He\u2019d teach them to do math because I had taught him. Sierra Leoneans have a nickname for someone who has an education and money. They\u2019ll call you \u201cbig man.\u201d It means you have influence. Staphi became a \u201cbig man\u201d in his community, and before long, he wanted everyone to have the same opportunities I had given him.<\/p>\n

Summer 2013<\/h2>\n

It took nearly a year to become fully accepted as a member of my community. I learned Krio and Mende, the languages that most Sierra Leoneans speak. I learned the culture. I took on a leadership position in my village. It was small\u2014only about 200 people\u2014so everyone knew me. I was the only foreigner, the only person with an education. I became a \u201cbig man.\u201d<\/p>\n

I developed such an appreciation for the culture. It\u2019s a different way of life in Sierra Leone. When someone asks, \u201cHow are you?\u201d they really want to know. In America, there\u2019s an unspoken agreement about not interacting with people you don\u2019t know. It\u2019s not like that in Sierra Leone. You get in a car or a transport to go somewhere, and you automatically become family with the people riding with you.<\/p>\n

By this point, I expected to stay in Sierra Leone when my Peace Corps service ended and be the principal of a school in a Freetown orphanage. My plan was to get Staphi a spot in my school.<\/p>\n

But that was before Ebola ruined everything.<\/p>\n

Spring and Summer 2014<\/h2>\n

We first heard of the outbreak in West Africa in April.\u00a0It started on the eastern border, near Guinea. We were on the western side, eight miles from the coast. I didn\u2019t fear contracting the disease because the chances were so minimal. But then it was in Liberia. It was surrounding us.<\/p>\n

In May it finally broke into Sierra Leone and started devastating\u2014200, 300, 600, 1,000 people dead. Our Peace Corps director kept us updated through emails and text messages, telling us the situation was being monitored. But it was unclear when, or if, we\u2019d be evacuated from the country.<\/p>\n

The tipping point for the Peace Corps, I think, was when Sierra Leone\u2019s chief doctor fighting Ebola died from the disease. The Peace Corps had to pull its volunteers out because it was becoming too much of a risk. Airlines were shutting down. There was a chance we\u2019d be stranded there. People were saying it was going to get a lot worse before it got better.<\/p>\n

Mustapha and I had planned to spend two weeks traveling to Bo and Freetown. Instead, I received my evacuation notice while visiting a friend in a nearby village. That was July 31. I was ordered to stay there until a car came to pick me up the next day. In Bomotoke, I was given 20 minutes to pack my life into bags.<\/p>\n

Anything I couldn\u2019t carry with me I gave to one of the families I had gotten close to\u2014all my clothes, pots, pans, everything. And I had to say goodbye to everyone on top of that. Many of the villagers were out in their fields, farming, so I never saw them before I left.<\/p>\n

The hardest part was saying goodbye to Staphi. I looked at him and said, \u201cStaphi, I\u2019m going today.\u201d And he said, \u201cOK, no problem, we\u2019ll go today,\u201d thinking we were going on our trip. And it was awful because I had to explain: \u201cNo, I\u2019m<\/em> going today, and I\u2019m not going to see you again for at least a very long time.\u201d He didn\u2019t show any emotion, but I think he wanted to cry.<\/p>\n

New Jersey, Winter 2015<\/h2>\n

I think about Mustapha every day. I feel comfortable knowing he\u2019s with his family. But there\u2019s no phone or Internet connection to his village, so I haven\u2019t spoken with him since I left. I\u2019ve asked volunteers I know from other organizations who are still in Sierra Leone what the situation is like in Bomotoke. From what I can tell, if there is a good place to be in Sierra Leone, Staphi is there\u2014remote, away from the worst of the outbreak. Unfortunately, he\u2019s not getting an education. Schools throughout the country have been closed since July because of the outbreak. That\u2019s a shame because without an education, Staphi\u2019s prospects for success are slim.<\/p>\n

I still hope to go back to Sierra Leone\u2014to take that job as principal\u2014because of the opportunities I could give Staphi, because of the friendship and the love I could give him, and because of the friendships that I have in Sierra Leone to build upon.<\/p>\n

I\u2019m in limbo. I don\u2019t know if I feel happiness yet. I go to bed at night now and I\u2019m exhausted, but purely because I am exhausted. In Sierra Leone, I\u2019d go to bed feeling happy-exhausted, feeling I had accomplished something. I\u2019d take stock of the day and think, \u201cThat was a good day.\u201d<\/p>\n

Everything works out for a reason; I think that\u2019s what\u2019s happening now. You can\u2019t get too down, because it will always get better in the end if you put in a little effort. I had a sign posted in my classroom that read, \u201cDream big. Be proactive.\u201d If you want something, you have to try to get it. If you try, you\u2019ll get somewhere near it. And somewhere near what you want is a lot better than nowhere near it at all.<\/p>\n

Gallery<\/h2>\n\n\t\t