Arrival in Freetown

After a mere 36 hour journey, I safely arrived in Freetown, Sierra Leone. I flew from Portland to Washington DC to Geneva, Switzerland to Brussels, Belgium to Dakar, Senegal and onward to Freetown. Luckily I did not have to get off the plane in Dakar, although I wouldn’t mind exploring the city beyond the airport tarmac one day. The airport seems to be outside of the city, out in the savanna. But along the runway you can see the edge of the city, which stretches out towards the ocean. The city is very colonial looking - all whitewashed buildings with little red terra-cotta roofs. It felt distinctly different from other West African cities I have seen. Senegal used to be, and still is, a very popular vacation destination for European travelers. I suppose I can see why, although personally I still think Freetown is the jewel of West Africa. I may be biased, having grown up in Juneau, but forested mountains meeting the ocean is just my cup of tea exactly.

In case you are unaware, Freetown is just breathtakingly beautiful. The city is built around one of the world’s largest natural harbors, and rises up into mountains which surround the bay. This means that from just about anywhere in the city you have a beautiful view. I mean anywhere. Earlier this afternoon I went out with STEWARD staff to run some errands, and we drove through one of the city’s shanty towns – a collection of tin, cardboard, and haphazard wiring, all built precariously upon a river of human refuse and garbage. Tangent: as we drove through, my new friends informed me that the government has been trying to relocate residents of this particular slum for some time – with renewed vigor following last year’s cholera outbreak. I am told that the new mayor went so far as to build new and free housing elsewhere - but rather than physically move, residents who were “relocated” simply sold or rented their new homes, and stayed put in the slum. By now entire generations have grown up in this area, and the situation is just too complex for simple solutions. It reminds me of the movie “Beasts of the Southern Wild,” which you all should see. Anyhow, my point: even though each ramshackle hut looked ready to slip down the mountainside and into the bay, each and every dwelling had a million dollar view. I’m always struck by such juxtapositions.

Speaking of juxtapositions, the Freetown airport serves as a rather remarkable confluence of organized global systems and highly innovative and adaptive local enterprise. I should mention that the airport is located across the bay from Freetown, in a town called Lungi. Driving around the bay, given the state of the roads, would be an 8 hour journey. Not surprisingly, most people arriving at the airport (who can afford it) opt to ferry across the bay. I use the term “ferry” quite liberally. A better term would be speed boat. The 30 minute trip costs 40 US dollars, and I have fished off of larger boats. But let’s back up. Arriving in the Freetown airport, travelers first pass through immigration, collect luggage, and clear customs. It’s a hectic but organized system. There are lots of airport employees, police, and people with roles that are still unclear to me, who will all shout where to go if you are confused. I’m not sure they really eliminate any confusion, but they are there, and they are loud. By far my favorite part of immigration and customs was watching a large golden-retriever walk up and down the moving baggage carousel, and joyously climb over and sniff all the bags. I am 80% certain that he was a drug dog, but you just never know. Before he got onto the carousel he was rolling around on his back, grunting, and enticing people to scratch his belly.

Anyhow, once outside of the airport, organization gives way to chaos. The river of travelers finally joins with the ocean of humanity in which rules change fluidly. Within steps of exiting the airport, travelers are engulfed by enthusiastic water taxi-men, none of whom are actually working for a water taxi, but all of whom will offer to help you navigate the process for a small fee- unfortunately their presence makes the entire process more difficult to follow. Having arrived at this airport before, I knew to quickly make my way to the actual ferry ticket counter, where I purchased my ticket, and boarded a waiting bus (tro-tro). Other travelers were not so efficient, and got trapped inside a mass of aggressive helpers. While they tried to elbow their way to the bus, I watched a little basenji dog wrestle with a monkey underneath a palm tree and felt generally content.

Eventually the bus filled, and we bounced down a dirt road to the beach, where our speedboat was waiting. Since I last arrived in Freetown, the water taxi company has built a dock. So getting on the boat was actually pretty uneventful. In the past, travelers were carried through the waves and put into the boat, which was much more hilarious. I won’t be able to do the scene justice, but imagine foreign dignitaries, World Bank employees, and wealthy mining executives, all in their nicest suits and shiniest European shoes, being piggy backed through the ocean and hefted into a speed boat by strapping youths with some serious body odor. No matter who you are, no matter how big or important you are, you must accept a piggy back ride if you want to get to Freetown. Or at least you did, until they built a dock. I’m sure the dock comes as welcome relief to the water taxi-men, lots of “big men” are actually quite literally big men. I don’t imagine it is pleasant to carry them through turbulent waves.

I got into the boat just fine, and as we jetted across the bay the sun set. A STEWARD car met me at the landing, and deposited me at the guest house, where I nearly passed out with fatigue. I spent most of today organizing myself, and then went to town with a couple of helpers to take care of basic tasks (exchange money, purchase phone, buy some delicious fresh fruit). It’s nice to get out and start looking around. I look forward to exploring the city more - as we ran errands I was able to see the infamous cotton tree, beneath which Freetown was founded. Freetown, like many cities in Africa, was ‘founded’ by former slaves who were sent back across the Atlantic following their emancipation (in America and the Caribbean mostly, hence the strong Creole culture). Legend has it that the first freed slaves who arrived in Freetown made their way up the beach to the first bit of shade they could find – a cotton tree. Beneath the cotton tree they gave thanks for their freedom and safe passage. The tree still stands at the center of Freetown, in front of the Department of Justice. I am told that political leaders still say prayers beneath it, in the hopes that it will provide them with peace and strong leadership.

Well that about wraps it up for today. Thanks for reading! I’ll sign off with the hope that we are all able to find patches of soothing shade in which we can be joyous and thankful for the good things in life… and if it’s not too much, perhaps some strapping youths to help us navigate turbulent waters.