With global Ebola panic in full swing, it may surprise you to learn how calm many West Africans remain as the disease continues its deadly rampage in their communities. A recent New York Times piece by Liberian-American journalist, Helene Cooper details the admirable resilience of Liberians as they weather the storm of a ruthless illness.
As a child, Cooper and her family left Liberia to escape the horrifying violence that plagued their homeland. Having endured 14 years of civil war, Liberians consider themselves to be a nation of survivors and many of them have the harrowing stories to prove it. “They came by that resilience the hard way,” says Cooper. Her own sister was kidnapped and narrowly escaped death. Another hid in a remote area for two years after seeing a coworker brutally killed by rebels.
On a recent visit to her home city of Monrovia, Cooper was surprised to see how calm Liberians are remaining even with the ever-present threat of disease. But given their painful history, Liberians see Ebola as another problem that must be dealt with. She explains:
“[Many] Liberians are treating the disease with much the same resignation as the killers of the past — accepting that the threat is there, and doing their best to navigate around it. They wash their hands with chlorine; they walk up to the laser thermometers at the entrances of public buildings to check their temperature. They still take care of family members who fall ill because there is no other alternative.”
Liberian hospitals can be expensive and difficult to access, so most of the afflicted are tended by their family and friends. For Liberians, the need to comfort and care for loved ones often trumps fear, but many have paid the ultimate price. Another New York Times Article, also by Helene Cooper, details the effects of a highly contagious sickness in a tactile culture, where hugs and kisses are a standard greeting. “You have to understand,” says one man, who survived the illness after caring for his late sister, “This Ebola thing. You will see your son or daughter sick in bed and say, '[I’m] not touching her?' That is impossible."
Everyone is aware of the risk and many remain vigilant to guard themselves against infection while continuing life as normally as possible. But for locals, it’s impossible not to notice taxi drivers leaning against windows to avoid contact with strangers or people picking through the marketplaces with their sleeves covering their hands. Greetings and farewells are no longer extended affairs, with hugs and kisses being replaced by fist bumps.
How would you adjust your daily life, including typical greetings and behaviors, to mitigate the impact of a disease like Ebola? How would cultural values potentially clash with changes suggested by medical professionals?