How much (aid) is enough?

My guess is that as soon as a foreigner sets foot in Monrovia, the first thought to strike him is, how are we going to rebuild this place? The level of poverty on display is striking. Most houses are merely tiny shells without furniture or electricity. Many squatters live in constructions that were stopped mid-way. Besides the one main road in the city, all other roads are badly damaged either with huge and numerous potholes, or else entirely stripped of the smooth surface.

Indeed, the lack of infrastructure--all the infrastructure that we take for granted every day, such as water, electricity, transportation..., is a huge problem. In health clinics around the country, for example, patients cannot properly be tested not because of missing expensive machines. Many such expensive testing machines have been donated. The machines cannot run, however, because of the lack of electricity. When there are dedicated generators for the machines, these small generators are either routinely stolen, or are routinely damaged by the all too common power surges.

The lack of infrastructure also impedes the rebuilding of a collapsed local economy. Whereas iron mining was a major part of the economy before the war, the transportation link to get iron ore out of Liberia has been destroyed, and will require millions of investment to restart. Despite the shortage of produce in Monrovia, local farming, which one must imagine would do well here, is nonexistent and cannot reach the city in any case.

So how do you rebuild the infrastructure? Aid money is not enough. You also need competent, educated people to oversee the rebuilding process. Well, 2 decades of civil war has disrupted schooling and left people here with an education gap. But education in itself requires significant investment both in terms of money and time. Yet, for many households, they cannot afford to send their kids to school until they can be financially secure, which requires a robust economy (currently the unemployment rate is 85%).

Having a large amount of aid is not enough. Effective rebuilding also requires a systematic, holistic planning of how much aid to spend where.

Liberia, America's little brother

Somewhere hidden in Liberia, there must be a black hole that sucks in time. How could it be that I've already been here for over 2 weeks?

Well, time flies by when you're in a place where everything is new. Liberia is an entirely new experience. In fact, it remains new and mysterious to me even now, 2 weeks after my arrival.

So what's my first impression of Liberia? I'd say irony. Isn't it ironic that a person who wishes for "Never Summer" will instead get "Always Summer?" Being a country that may be summarized as one long coastline, life in Liberia is beaches after beaches. The difference from one day to another may be Heineken on the beach versus Club beer (a local brew) on the beach. On a weekend, half of the expat community may be found on the nearby Tinker's beach. If you're lucky, you may also find your way to Robert's Port, where the ocean is blue, the sand is fine, and the village kids are super cute.

But the country is not exactly paradise on earth. As I looked at the cute kids at Robert's Port, I realized one thing. As young and innocent as these kids are, they're also survivors of a brutal civil war. Liberia, after all, is a nation that was once abandoned by the US, and embroiled in war for one and a half decades.

Barcelona? Don't go for the food!

I was at the restaurant Gaig when waiter told me: "'Ere iz ze chef's compliment. Zis iz ze broth of a partridge, along with 'is eggs and 'is meat." I was ecstatic. After a week and a half of surprisingly bland and disappointing Spanish food, that was the highest point of my Barcelona culinary experience. I certainly appreciated the astonishing sacrifice the chef was willing to make in the name of good food.

I had higher expectations for food in Barcelona. Tapas, after all, has made quite a trend the world over. I longed for their fresh seafood, well-spiced Mediterranean cuisine, and perfectly-executed paellas. Well, denied, denied, denied.

At first I wasn't sure if the lack of good food was because of the untimeliness of my visit. I arrived on the 24th, Christmas Eve, and all the shops and restaurants were closed that afternoon. Same thing on Christmas day. Fair enough, I thought. We went to a Brazilian rodizio to stave off hunger. But nothing opened on the 26th or 27th either. When restaurants finally opened, I realized they never clean their seafood--so be prepared for sandy shrimps and razor clams; the same tapas are served everywhere--count of fried green peppers, sauteed mushrooms, and sliced fried artichokes; and worst of all, they use frozen scallops.

Food aside, Barcelona is a beautiful city. Gaudi's architecture alone is worth seeing. Add the Miro and Dali museums, and you have a tourist destination worth a long stay. Although I was frustrated as a tourist by the overly leisurely lifestyle (I'm not quite sure how Catalan could possibly the hardest-working part of Spain when they take a 3-hour nap after lunch), I'm sure that as a resident the lifestyle couldn't be better. You work for a bit more after your 3-hour siesta, then have some tapas and beer to hold you over till your dinner at 9pm.

What a perfect day. As long as you don't mind so much how bland the food is.