rebuilding rant

All I have to do to get excited again about going to Liberia is start cruising the internet.

Did you know that the life expectancy there is 39.6 years. Hm. Carrie was 39.3 years, and I'm 38.6. Puts it into perspective for me.

I have to go. Even if only for a month instead of the whole summer. If I don't go, I'll never forgive myself for missing this opportunity - I've wanted it for two years. Alfred, the director of "my" organization, promised to hook me up (not his words) with the director of Truth and Reconciliation Commission to work on an anti-impunity measure.

Anti-impunity. I think that is my new middle name, my mantra, my koan. Anti-impunity. It offends all my moral sensibilities that people get away with bad things - but especially in a society which could quite easily fall apart because of it. They believe forgiveness is the answer, but I disagree. I think, in a Rule of Law cult follower kind of way, that accountability is the answer. Not the fake accountability of our government, but a real holding people responsible for what they did. Only then will progress really be made.

And I also do not understand what seems to me Liberia's continued need for external assistance. It's like they always want outsiders to come in and set things right. Of course I know that no LIberians read this blog, or I would not post that - it's oversimplifying the situation. But I have hope - with people like Alfred, and especially with Madame President Ellen, that there will be self-sufficiency.

Which, worries me a little. Here I am ranting about self-sufficiency, and I as an outsider want to "help." That's my main hold-up about going. Not the discomfort, or the complications, or danger, or expense. It's about the contrast between what I really believe (that Liberians need to pull themselves out of this mess) and what I want to do (go there and help on my terms).

Article today talked about donor fatigue - and once that sets in, if you're relying on more help you're screwed.

I guess I'm all up on my high horse about self-sufficiency because I think New Orleans needs a bunch more, too. Not for the levees or that stuff, but for each house and small business. I know that everybody is exhausted from the extreme challenges of dealing with their own stuff - but why aren't people banding together more? Why aren't neighborhoods helping each other with gutting and building? Yeah, like an Amish barn-raising. Working together, things go quickly. Broadmoor is a good example of that, but why not the rest of the city? And why is there such a gap between the people and the government? We're only 200,000 people! There's no reason for this. It's beyond corruption - it's putting a barrier between the represented and the "representatives" that makes so many problems - from these stupid huge garbage cans that nobody has place to keep, to the cops never getting people to tell them who committed the murders, to a school system that needs to be razed and rebuilt.

Lousiana, according to a study I read recently, has the second-lowest rate of volunteerism. I had a hard time believing that - I know a lot of local volunteers - but maybe that's on to something. Why aren't people here helping each other more? I see there are two models - my house is flooded and my neighbor's house is flooded. We can both live in our FEMA trailers and wait for a volunteer service or FEMA or somebody else to come along and gut our houses - OR we can buy one wheelbarrow and first start on my neighbor's house and then when that's done start on mine.

When I first got here, I met a guy who owns a small cell phone shop. He evacuated with his family, but he was back within the week - sneaking past the National Guard lines - to start rebuilding. "Everybody sits around and waits here - why not pick up a damn hammer yourself?" Now, he has some skills, and he has family and friends that help - but he's really on to something.

I know, I'm Alaskan through and through. My father built our house, with the help of friends. I remember my 7th summer was spent picking up nails and cleaning up bags of cement, because a group of guys were there every day until the house was done (well, inhabitable - and then the rest of the work NEVER got done - nobody in my family is good with follow-through). And of course my dad did the same for other people's houses. That's what we did there - no tract housing, no outside consultants, no federal disaster management. We were the Alaskan Amish of a sort.

So I look around here, and I just don't get it. I went to Grand Isle and other small towns, and things look way better than here - because people help each other, people rely on each other - and not just their kin, but on their community. And I know that's buried deep in the nature here, but it's been covered up with something strange. It needs to be uncovered.