he don chack

Sarah: 3 weeks in and we decided it was time to sample the delights of the infamous Freetown nightlife. "He don chack" (He's drunk!) was the order of the evening as Jessie militant partying streak re-emerged and we dragged the 3 boys (in their 20s..no underage business here) from our house out for the night. Oseh, who doesn't drink, Victor, who's never been to a nightclub and Christopher, the family driver with a cheeky streak, had a couple of beers each and after some gentle persuasion were busting their moves on the dancefloor of Aces (For The Ladies, apparently). Our carefully planned night of heading to the famous Paddy's bar were scuppered when our taxi driver decided to use his initiative and delivered us to a place that, we later found out, the guidebook described as a 'desultory hooker-fest'. Thankfully, I think that side of things passed the church-going boys by and we all enjoyed our night of good clean fun. It certainly beat another evening on the sofa with a pirate copy of the bbc Merlin series.


We're already into our last week of teaching, and aiming to cover HIV with all the classes. Considering the blank looks on 9 year-olds faces when they're repeating "Sex without a condom", I reckon that part is a little bit over their heads, but they're definitely getting the hang of the rest of the routes of transmission. Cue Jessie and I acting out sharing razors to shave our rasta beards (YES!), using the same toilet (NO!) and kissing on the cheek (NO! plus plenty of sniggering).

We've also tried to cover Malaria, Respect, Aspirations with all the children and Puberty with the older class. The success has been variable, with moments of stunned silence, embarrassed giggling, real understanding (our favourite) and downright hilarity following my artistic representation of grown ups sans clothing, all of their anatomy accurately represented.

The adult education class has been more consistently rewarding, with even the teachers and Alfred the front-door man marvelling at the wonders of the female reproductive system and asking plenty of questions.

Comedy gold moments include small boy wandering out of nursery class, looking pained, clutching his jeans and saying "Me wan piss!", and the obssession with hairstyles and hairpieces on even the youngest of children- today one of the three-year old girls came in with a full, shiny, fake-hair, ear-length 80s style bob carefully woven into the little tufty beginnings of an afro. On the other hand...it is difficult to understand how such fashion-obssessed consumerism can exist side-by-side with poverty of a level where the standpipe water makes people sick, the rainy season means adding extra bin-liners to cover the holes in your corrugated iron roof and the local family planning and maternity clinic has 'run out' of free, government issue condoms that probably never even existed.