26 June 2006
I have so much to say that it’s hard to know where to start. The last week or so has been crazily busy. I believe that I may now have seen
I’ve started speaking a bit of Liberian English. I didn’t at first, being self-conscious, but then people at the office started finding out that I lived here before. One day C was trying to explain something about our visa/passport situation to a co-worker and he suddenly turned to me and said, “I’m not getting what she is saying. Explain it to me, Bassa girl.” So I did, in Liberian English. All were highly amused, although a bit of Bassa was an even bigger hit. I’ve been taking requests for the Lord’s Prayer in Bassa ever since, sometimes by people who don’t even work here; how they heard about the white girl who can speak a (tiny) bit of Bassa, I do not know. And I’ve had more chances to use Liberian English – with drivers, with guards while lecturing them, with kids at some orphanages we went to on Saturday (the missionary we went with said, “Do you put Liberian English on your resume? Because you should.”). At work I still stick mostly with US English because mostly everyone understands it.
It is warm and palpably muggy in