Showing posts with label lonely planet. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lonely planet. Show all posts

Saturday, 30 November 2013

Liberia - Reading List

I found quite a bit of reading material on Liberia - travelogues, fiction by Western authors, as well as fiction by Liberian authors. 

Here is a summary of the books I read:

Chasing the Devil: On Foot through Africa's Killing Fields - Tim Butcher, 2010

Journey without Maps - Graham Greene, 1936

I've blogged about these two books already and you can read my blog post here

Lonely Planet West Africa - 2009 edition.  I like reading old copies of guidebooks, such as the Lonely Planet series, as they are quite often a rich source of ideas and point me in the direction of resources which help me understand the place I'm blogging about.

There are very few guidebooks specifically about Liberia, but Lonely Planet West Africa has a lot of general information about the region and I made lots of notes and learned about other West African countries, such as Guinea-Bissau, Nigeria and Cameroon.  No doubt these notes will help, whenever I blog about these other countries, at some point in the future. 

The Rain and the Night - William Sankawulo, 1979.  As well as being a writer, William Sankowulo served as Liberia's leader, during the interim government of 1995-96.  He seems to have been somewhat of a political survivor, having been part of the old regime under Tolbert, as well as the new regime under Samuel Doe. 

The Rain and the Night is an interesting novel which deals with the challenges faced by a new chief, Kortuma, after his father passes away.  A key message of the novel is that, whilst tribes must sometimes go to war to defend their honour, war is generally bad for the country and the tribes must unite and work together for the general prosperity of their people. 

I found Sankawulo's depiction of women interesting - women are feared and respected by their men and Kortuma has a refreshingly modern view on the importance of understanding and listening to women, particularly in relation to his wives. 

Books I read during my research on Liberia
Murder in the Cassava Patch - Bai T. Moore, 1968.  Liberia's most famous novel, Murder in the Cassava Patch is the first novel I've read completely online.  I'm not at all technophobic, but I am a bit resistant to giving up paper books for electronic ones - however, the ebook was the easiest and quickest way to access Moore's Liberian classic which is, sadly, incredibly difficult to find in paper format. 

It's a great story - more of a novella than a novel.  Like Sankawulo's book, it also deals with the relationship between men and women, although this time, the relationship is a more hostile one.  In Moore's Cassava Patch, the men are hard-working and innocent, the women are conniving and manipulative.  In the words of one of the male characters:

The secrets of a woman are deeper than the bottom of hell.

Despite the undercurrent of 'gender war', I really enjoyed reading Murder in the Cassava Patch - the story is well-told and I learned a lot about Liberia and the everyday lives of the people who live there.

Liberian Women attending Math and Literacy class by UN photo
Little Liberia: An African Odyssey in New York City - Jonny Steinberg, 2012.  Steinberg has written a lot about his native South Africa, but a fellowship from the Open Society Institute (who I also once worked for) allowed him to do the necessary research for Little Liberia, which picks up the Liberian story in the ex-pat community of Park Hill Avenue on Staten Island. 

I read a lot about the various civil wars in Liberia but Steinberg's book, telling the stories of two Liberian immigrants, helped me contextualise the bigger picture and see a more real, perhaps more personal, version of events.  The book was well-researched and well-written, although I wasn't tearing through the pages, as I usually do and I can't help feeling there was something missing.

The Darling - Russell Banks, 2005.  I absolutely loved this novel and I'm quite interested in reading more of Russell Banks books, as this was the first time I'd ever heard of him.  Written from a 'western' perspective, the novel follows the story of a young (white) US woman - a radical, on the FBI's most-wanted list because of her anti-government activities, as part of the Weathermen underground movement of the 1970's - as she flees to Liberia, marries a Minister in Samuel Doe's government and raises three boys, who later become child soldiers. 

I found the story thrilling, sad, enlightening and engaging in equal measure and, whilst the political background of the novel wasn't new to me, I enjoyed seeing a fictionalised account, both of the civil wars in Liberia and the changing nature of the radical left in the United States.  Highly recommended!

And the ones that got away!

As usual, I didn't have time to read everything that I would like to have read in relation to Liberia.  In case you have more time than me to explore Liberia, here is a list of the other books I would like to have read. 

View inside Liberian Magisterial Court by UN photo
Too late to turn back - Barbara Greene, 1938 - the missing 'third' version of the Greene's Sierra Leone to Liberia trek.  I would love to have read Barbara's version of the journey with her cousin Graham, but time-constraints apart, copies of her book are relatively expensive, although republished by Penguin in 1990.

The Mask of Anarchy: Roots of Liberia's Civil War: The Destruction of Liberia and the Religious Dimension of an African Civil War - Stephen Ellis, 1999.

The House at Sugar Beach: In Search of a Lost African Childhood - Helene Cooper, 2009.

This Child will be Great: Memoir of a Remarkable Life by Africa's First Woman President - Ellen Johnson Sirleaf and Kim McLarin, 2010 - although I can't help feeling a little bit cynical about this type of political (auto)biography. 

Image credits:

These images have been shared by UN photo on their flickr account - the UN has shared these images using the Creative Commons license, so they can foster a public understanding of the UN's work and goals. You can see more UN photos (and learn more about their work) on their photo stream

Friday, 13 November 2009

Mongolia - Cynophobia and Ger-tiquette

Apart from being landlocked countries, I was trying to find something else that Mongolia and Lesotho have in common and I came up with this:


they have similar levels of population.


Hard to imagine this would be the case with Lesotho being the size of Belgium (or a little bit bigger than Massachusetts, for our friends in the US), whereas Mongolia is the 19th biggest country in the world, right after Iran. It's also the least densely populated independent state in the world, with only 1% of Mongolia's territory being classified as urban.

I can't even begin to comprehend a 'space' like that. It must influence everything about Mongolia, from their love of horses, the bird dancing rituals before wrestling, the timelessness of a landscape barely altered by man.


If claustrophobia is a fear of enclosed spaces, then what is a fear of open spaces called? I've looked on the Internet, but no one seems to know the answer to this. Officially it should be 'agoraphobia' which is the fear of crowds (or markets), but can also imply the fear of an empty market, of being alone in a landscape.


By all accounts Chingis Khan had an irrational fear of dogs. Dogs seem to be all-present in Mongolian society. A common greeting is Nokhoi Khor, which is the polite thing to say on entering a ger (traditional Mongolian home, like a big tent made of poles and wrapped in felt). It literally translates as 'hold the dog'.

Being Irish, children and dogs are brought up (or is that dragged up?) together and, until I went to Uzbekistan, I'd always felt comfortable around dogs. Arriving in Samarkand, the floppy, affectionate puppies of my youth were suddenly replaced by the earless, snarling guard dogs (they chop off their ears, so that every sound will be irritating, which makes them incredibly nasty and fierce.) It certainly reminded me of their primary function and put their essential relationship with man into perspective, in a way I'd never really thought of before.


To learn more about Mongolia, I ordered a cheap second-hand copy of Lonely Planet, dating back to 2001, coincidentally the year I went to Samarkand and, much as I've learned a lot from Lonely Planet over the years, some of the advice made me giggle.


Although it's probably quite practical, the phrases they recommend learning, for when you're hiking in the Mongolian wilderness and finally stumble across civilsation are 'Where am I?' and 'Is that dog dangerous?'. I can't help thinking that if that dog were dangerous, I wouldn't get the chance to ask my question in the first place!


Okay, so I'm being a smart-alec but, to be honest, I think I would have found Lonely Planet's guide to does and don'ts, in a ger, terrifying. I loved the advice to leave your weapons outside. Who goes to Mongolia with weapons, honestly? I could just picture myself, the clumsy foreigner, walking the wrong way round the ger to avoid the dog, stumbling over ropes and people older than me, banging into poles and frantically shaking hands with everyone! Disaster!


I remember taking this kind of advice all too seriously when I went to Uzbekistan, being afraid to blow my nose in public, never knowing where to sit when invited to someone's house. I think people understand that you're a foreigner and can be very forgiving. That doesn't mean you don't make an effort to do the right thing, of course, but trying to remember lists of do's and don'ts can take away from the experience. The important thing is to interact with people and join in the laughter when you get it wrong. Stoopid foreigners don't have many uses, but at least we can be amusing, without even meaning to - oh, and it's nothing personal.


As part of my learning about Mongolia, I've been reading the blog of an American woman, Tara Munch, who is currently teaching in Ulaan Baator. It's called 'So I moved to Mongolia' and her stories about traffic and dodgy door knobs have brought a smile to my face and conjured up memories of Samarkand, the frustrations of living in a country that barely functions, the feeling of not knowing what's going on a greater part of the time, but also the sheer hospitality of the people you meet and the adventure of being somewhere so totally different from the place you grew up in. I like the way she tries to focus on the positive things, too many people end up being grouchy ex- pats! Enjoy it, Tara, while it lasts. You'll have enough time back in the West with all its rules and familiarity :-)


If you want to visit Tara's blog and wish her luck, it's

http://www.travelblog.org/Bloggers/Tara-Munch/


Image credits

The image of the Mongolian flag is from www.33ff.com/flags

The image of the snarling dog is from flickruser misterbisson an information architect and librarian from Manchester, New Hampshire.

The image of the Ger is by flickruser jrubinic