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I’ve already introduced you to Joshua. He was one of our Peace Corps trainers and a very good friend of mine. However, I knew the pecking order. He was especially a close friend with another Peace Corps Volunteer named Kevin. Joshua named his only son Kevin. I got to see baby Kevin a lot more than his namesake ever did since I lived so close to the village of Zlehtown where he grew up. One of my favorite photos from my experience in Liberia was a photo of baby Kevin taking a bucket bath, completely sitting in a bucket.
As I worked on the mural sketch, there were several interruptions that delayed progress. My favorite delay - hands-down, no competition – was when no longer baby Kevin showed up to meet me. I know he didn’t know me. I hope he heard about me all his life. I had to give him a hug. He knew nothing about my only photo of him. Everyone who heard me explain it, especially all the mothers present, loved the idea of a second photo with him holding a bucket.
Plans were quickly made for a Liberian meal with his family. And, one of the staples in Grand Gedeh County was palm butter. I got to document, photograph, video record and thoroughly enjoy my palm butter experience. Then, I taught them how to make chocolate no-bake cookies. I think everyone was happy.
I also spoke to Kevin a little bit about Grand Gedeh and the Liberian civil war. He was just a baby when it started, but the conflict lasted for fourteen years. People throughout the county had to flee their homes. Zwedru was empty, a complete ghost town for seven years. And as bad as the situation already was, families were separated as they fled. Kevin’s father was in Monrovia when the civil war started. He spent the entire conflict away from his family. Kevin’s mother and older sister were separated and found their way across the border into the Ivory Coast. Kevin ended up in the care of his grandmother, living in the bush somewhere in the interior of Liberia. There were thousands of refugees doing the same thing. Small clusters of families built temporary homes and lived together in the bush. Sometimes there was peace and they returned to their home villages. Then, the alarm went out that rebels were on their way, and the people fled back into the bush.
Thankfully, when the conflict ended, all family members ended up safely back in Zwedru! I spent time with Kevin’s sisters learning about palm butter. Then, I went to his home on the other side of town to meet his wife and two and a half children. It appears that the past is behind and Liberians are moving on towards a more peaceful future. I’m so thankful with time there is also recovery.
As a parting note, I must mention the confusion that Liberians seemed to have with the name Kevin. It’s my guess that nobody else in the country ever heard of the name. I saw it spelled Kalvin, Kavine and Klevin among other variations that have slipped my mind over the years. However, as this young man wrote his name and phone number on a paper for my reference, he spelled his name Kelvin.
As I worked on the mural sketch, there were several interruptions that delayed progress. My favorite delay - hands-down, no competition – was when no longer baby Kevin showed up to meet me. I know he didn’t know me. I hope he heard about me all his life. I had to give him a hug. He knew nothing about my only photo of him. Everyone who heard me explain it, especially all the mothers present, loved the idea of a second photo with him holding a bucket.
Plans were quickly made for a Liberian meal with his family. And, one of the staples in Grand Gedeh County was palm butter. I got to document, photograph, video record and thoroughly enjoy my palm butter experience. Then, I taught them how to make chocolate no-bake cookies. I think everyone was happy.
I also spoke to Kevin a little bit about Grand Gedeh and the Liberian civil war. He was just a baby when it started, but the conflict lasted for fourteen years. People throughout the county had to flee their homes. Zwedru was empty, a complete ghost town for seven years. And as bad as the situation already was, families were separated as they fled. Kevin’s father was in Monrovia when the civil war started. He spent the entire conflict away from his family. Kevin’s mother and older sister were separated and found their way across the border into the Ivory Coast. Kevin ended up in the care of his grandmother, living in the bush somewhere in the interior of Liberia. There were thousands of refugees doing the same thing. Small clusters of families built temporary homes and lived together in the bush. Sometimes there was peace and they returned to their home villages. Then, the alarm went out that rebels were on their way, and the people fled back into the bush.
Thankfully, when the conflict ended, all family members ended up safely back in Zwedru! I spent time with Kevin’s sisters learning about palm butter. Then, I went to his home on the other side of town to meet his wife and two and a half children. It appears that the past is behind and Liberians are moving on towards a more peaceful future. I’m so thankful with time there is also recovery.
As a parting note, I must mention the confusion that Liberians seemed to have with the name Kevin. It’s my guess that nobody else in the country ever heard of the name. I saw it spelled Kalvin, Kavine and Klevin among other variations that have slipped my mind over the years. However, as this young man wrote his name and phone number on a paper for my reference, he spelled his name Kelvin.