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Location Monrovia, Liberia
Episode Notes It’s November 24th, and what should have been a simple errand turned into one of those days that only seems to happen on the road in West Africa. I went into town looking for an ATM that actually worked—no luck. It was Monday, and the weekend had wiped them all out.
I decided to pivot and get a coffee near a big hotel. I parked where I’d parked before without any problems. This time, though, I came back to find a padlock clamped onto my front wheel by private security. I had a choice: pay $80 on the spot or get towed for $250. After some negotiation and finagling, it came down to $60—making that one very expensive coffee.
While all this was happening, a man named Jimmy appeared, watching my truck. He remembered me from Aberdeen in Freetown, days and days of driving away, recognizing me by my orange scarf. That kind of unexpected human connection still amazes me.
On the way back to the hotel, I met Michael, a sincere 25-year-old who wants to attend vocational school but can’t afford it. I paid $60 to help him get started, with plans to possibly support him further once enrollment opens in February. The need here is endless, but helping one person feels meaningful.
As if that wasn’t enough for one day, back at the hotel another guest invited me to his room—to show me gold bars. Actual gold, tied to village mining operations six hours outside Monrovia, involving local chiefs and entire communities. I didn’t buy any, but just being there for that story was surreal.
Life out here keeps getting stranger, richer, and more human by the day.
Key Moments
By Andre van der MostLocation Monrovia, Liberia
Episode Notes It’s November 24th, and what should have been a simple errand turned into one of those days that only seems to happen on the road in West Africa. I went into town looking for an ATM that actually worked—no luck. It was Monday, and the weekend had wiped them all out.
I decided to pivot and get a coffee near a big hotel. I parked where I’d parked before without any problems. This time, though, I came back to find a padlock clamped onto my front wheel by private security. I had a choice: pay $80 on the spot or get towed for $250. After some negotiation and finagling, it came down to $60—making that one very expensive coffee.
While all this was happening, a man named Jimmy appeared, watching my truck. He remembered me from Aberdeen in Freetown, days and days of driving away, recognizing me by my orange scarf. That kind of unexpected human connection still amazes me.
On the way back to the hotel, I met Michael, a sincere 25-year-old who wants to attend vocational school but can’t afford it. I paid $60 to help him get started, with plans to possibly support him further once enrollment opens in February. The need here is endless, but helping one person feels meaningful.
As if that wasn’t enough for one day, back at the hotel another guest invited me to his room—to show me gold bars. Actual gold, tied to village mining operations six hours outside Monrovia, involving local chiefs and entire communities. I didn’t buy any, but just being there for that story was surreal.
Life out here keeps getting stranger, richer, and more human by the day.
Key Moments