Swimming in the Jungle

The fist time I visited Liberia I was just nineteen and I came with Paul to meet his parents and visit his home - Liberia. Paul's stories made the place sound adventurous, exotic, exciting and even romantic.  My first night in Liberia all I could think was -- "he lied".  Monrovia was hot, crowded, I couldn't understand anyone and it stunk.  I can take pictures for you but I can't bottle the smell.  It's tropical, hot, musty, and smells of mildew and sweat. My refuge was the LAMCO pool. Imagine a 50 meter pool in the middle of the jungle. It was like a five star hotel pool in the middle of nowhere. 

The LAMCO pool before the war.

An Ariel view of the company pool and tennis courts - literally dropped the middle of the jungle.

The pool is still there, but now it's "finished" - that's Liberian English for its a goner. I remember swimming laps, jumping off the diving board, laying out and falling madly in love with Paul, his stories, and Liberia as each day of the summer of 1985 passed by. 

If you look closely this is the same angle as the photo above before the war.

The kids inside the pool.

I returned to Liberia in 1989 with Paul and Ashley (then 5 months old) on our way to Malawi to live. I took Ashley to the pool everyday after her nap and played for hours in the baby pool.  The baby pool is now full of tadpoles and green water but I can remember it crystal clear and my baby girl's squeals of joy when I put her feet in the water.

Ashley by the baby pool she loved so much as a small baby.

The kids swimming backstroke in the dry bed of the pol