Gbarpolu County II – Experiencing the rustic life of Liberia



Welcome board at Tubmanburg


The road from Harbel was paved until the city of Tubmanburg which I had previously passed more than a year and half ago on my way back from Robertsport. After Tubmanburg, the road was pretty much 4X4 terrain for another 3 hours until the town of Bopolu which serves as the capital of Gbarpolu county. Upon reaching Bopolu we dropped a referendum monitor who rode with us, at one of the voting centers.

Tubmanburg

Thomas leading the way into the bush

Bopolu, though an administrative capital was a quintessential Liberian town more than anything else. Fairly small and under populated, Bopolu was a surprisingly picturesque town with rolling hills speckled with irregular shades of green due to a combination of wild rice plantations and scrubby bush.

Glimpse of Bopolu as we near it...you can see the rolling hills in the background

Abu’s contact introduced me to a local called Thomas who agreed to take me into the bush. The deal was to leave immediately and after a 3 hour walk through the bush sleep in the small hamlet oddly called “Dwannah Town”. From there we would be joined by a hunter from that hamlet to spend the majority of the next day in the bush. I knew Abu was not as enthusiastic as me about walking endlessly through the bush so I asked him to stay back in Bopolu, take care of the car and wait for us the next evening.

A rice field on the way from Bopolu to Dwannah town

Thomas and I packed a few water bottles and sandwiches and set off on a small trail into the forest. The bush was wet due to the rainy season and soon the clouds opened up for another heavy downpour. The rain did not stop our march as we just removed our shirts packed them in a plastic bag and continued onwards. The simple fact was that for most Liberians in the bush, rain is hardly a hindrance …so rain or no rain we had to continue. I have seen first hand Liberians going about their business in the rain and now that I was experiencing it, it made sense since it rains here for a good five months of the year.

Time to jump in the swamp

Along the way we passed several streams and swamps that initially were crossed by trees fallen over and then the deeper we went it was a case of just jumping in and wading through them. I would have preferred to have had sandals rather than shoes but the hike was pretty strenuous so wearing shoes made better sense even if it meant that they would be wet, soggy and heavy.

Some of the flimsy bridges we crossed

 

We made it to Dwannah town about 30 minutes before the sun set and as we arrived into the hamlet, the kids were overjoyed and excited to see two new arrivals one of whom was a Whymann. The first thing I had to do was to visit the village elders where I explained that I was there to only explore their land, not to exploit their resources of gold, diamond, wood etc. The elders seemed very kind and generous as they welcomed me to their village and allowed access to their land. They offered me a flip flop seeing that my shoes where drenched and were generous and honest in saying that they could not completely entertain their guest (me) as they didn’t have enough food to share with me. I told them not to worry as I had some sandwiches and offered a small gift to the chief as my gratitude.

Dwannah's Town

Village elders

The inhabitants of Dwannah town were from the Kpelle tribe who were Muslims. It was surprising on a couple counts since most Kpelle are from the Bong county and are Christians. Normally, the Mandingo, Vai, Gbandi, and Bella tribe are predominantly Muslim. Evenryone in the village also had the same last name, Kenneh" which probably suggests that they are all decended from a single family.

The Chief's wife cooking

Twins

In the hamlet, whatever I did attracted curious glimpses from the kids and it seemed as though I was a walking oddity to them. I wonder if they were curious to know the reason for the presence of this stranger so far in the bush. I guess none of them had ever seen a White (or Brown) man judging by their reaction towards me. There was one instance when a girl saw my dehydrated and pale feet and said “Tha man feet eh BRIGHT!

Another instance was when a couple kids came by and touched the hair on my legs and exchanged glances at each other in bewilderment.
It was also interesting to note the culture of sharing among the kids. When a bunch of 5-6 kids sat around a single big bowl to eat their dinner which was nothing more than wild rice with a smattering of whole peppers they invited me over to join them. I tasted a little and it was actually fairly tasty. My take on it is that the kids (and adults) live so far away from the outside world that the only way the community can survive is by sharing.

I unwittingly caught on camera, this completely natural rustic life of kids

This one is a natural too

As the sun set, we sat around a torch light and a bottle of fresh palm wine as I listened to a concoction of lurid tales from the inhabitants of the hamlet. The topics ranged from gruesome events and ensuing hardships from the Liberian civil war, tales of wild creatures around the neighboring hills and jungles, and surreal stories of gold and diamond deposits and the accompanying treasure hunters. All in all it was a very unique experience to unwind and experience the rustic country life of Liberia.

With the kids of Dwannah town

Indulging in some palm wine and forest lore

I retired for the night in Thomas’s hut which was pretty basic but more importantly did have a mosquito net. The problem was drying my wet clothes and shoes enough so I could wear it again the next day. I lay them over the smoldering charcoal leftover from that night’s dinner preparation. 

The elders

Tapping palm wine atop the tree



The following morning started at dawn as I headed straight into the bush along with Thomas and the local hunter. We passed several more swamps and streams and it rained incessantly so it didn’t really matter that I had wet shoes and clothes. The first stop was at a palm tree where Thomas and the hunter had their breakfast aka fresh palm wine. I had a lot of walking to do that day so declined to join in. It was however an interesting climb up the tree to see the tapping process. A video of it is posted below.

Thomas's cassava plants damaged by bush hogs

Thomas's field

The next stop was Thomas’s farm deep in the jungle. The field was basically planted with wild rice with some cross cropping of squash, pumpkin, bitter balls, and peppers. I recall seeing footprints of three different species of forest duikers and a wild hog but unfortunately no actual sightings of the animals. Evidently the duikers and hogs frequently raid Tomas’s farm and hence he had surrounded the farm with traps and snares but then, the farm is smack in the middle of the forest so there’s no solution to this conflict and either way, it seems as though eventually the wild animals are going to lose as more people push deeper into the bush for farming.

Wild rice

Tracks of a duiker


After the farm we continued hiking to later reach a river called as the “Mahvon”. We hiked along and across the river with the hope of sighting some wildlife. The river banks were purported to be a good spot to sighting crocodiles and if we were really luck some species of duikers. The hunter even mentioned that there were hippos around this river but I wondered if that was a tale that was induced by the palm wine from the morning. Skeptical as I was about seeing the extremely rare and endemic Pygmy Hippos, the thought of actually seeing one was pretty exhilarating. We trudged around that region for a good two hours until we reached the Mahvoh creek. 
As we lay by the river to rest I could really appreciate the beauty of the idyllic setting with the shallow, clear river first splitting into a fork and then joining back after the mini-falls. All around were huge trees swaying in the zephyr, a fishing eagle soaring in circles looking for its meal and into the distance the river gradually disappeared in the tropical jungle and the mist from the waterfalls.

Snares

Crossing a stream

As has been the case so far with all my travels within Liberia, I didn’t see any decent wildlife. The best thing I came across were the tracks of duikers, the fishing eagle and a solitary vulture. On the way back to Dwannah we came across a band of hunters who were also returning to Bopolu after spending 3 days further deep in the jungles and they were as empty handed as me. They were even willing to shoot squirrels which showed their desperation and the lack of game in the neighboring forests.

We got back to the hamlet of Dwannah Town but not before stopping to collect some more palm wine. This time I did indulge in it and the wine was refreshingly sweet and was made even better by the bitter balls I had just eaten. At the town, I said goodbye to the elders and started the three hour walk back to Bopolu.

More crossings

When we broke cover from the bush Abu was already waiting for us. It was a welcome sight to see Abu which meant that I won’t have to walk anymore after slogging almost 8 hours through the wet forest.

No wildlife in yet another of my excursion to the interiors of Liberia does not mean that the trip was a disaster. On the contrary, I came away with the realization of how tough a life it is for most Liberians living in the bush. No electricity, no roads, no schools, no internet, no phone, little food, no medical help for hours, no wells...no vehicles…but life still goes on.