The Gypsy Nurse is heading to Liberia with Cross-Cultural Care as a travel nurse volunteer
As you probably already read, The Gypsy Nurse is volunteering in Liberia. I plan to bring you along with me; virtually and give you a ‘feet on the ground’ accounting of the entire process.
CHECK OUT THE PREVIOUS SEGMENTS OF THIS SERIES IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO READ MORE ABOUT MY EXPERIENCE AS A TRAVEL NURSE VOLUNTEER IN LIBERIA.
Obtaining A Liberian Nursing Permit
I’m waiting for Wilfred, my local contact to arrive for my nursing permit. Wilfred is handling the obtaining of my permit for me today. I’m hoping that he will also be able to assist me with finding some groceries and acclimating to the area of the city where I am. There are no local addresses so I’m a bit concerned about leaving and finding my way back. Normally, I would just wander out and explore with an address in my pocket to hand to a taxi when I’m ready to come home but without an address, I’m unsure how to proceed.
Just as I’ve typed this out, the neighbor introduces himself; Syed a Lebanese. He is living and working here doing ‘construction’ somewhere nearby. After our introductions, I ask him about finding a taxi and he offers to come back around 11am and take me to the grocery. The taxi’s are not good is the best I can understand.
There was some mis-communication between myself and Wilfred. I thought he was coming to the apartment and he thought that I was coming to his office…. We got it figured out and I ended up taking Syed up on an offer to drive me to the hospital and meet Wilfred at the office.
I’m now official!
Side Trip to Immigration
After Wilfred and I tracked down my nursing permit we then headed to the immigration office to pick up another volunteer Visa. I have to say, if I had been in the immigration office alone, I would have been quite intimidated. It’s a simple block building with dark stairs, concrete walls, and authoritative desks. There are very little welcoming features and I imagined what it might be like to be interrogated here….fortunately, the smiling faces of the immigration workers made up for the unwelcoming façade of the building.
Following our jaunt to the immigration office, Wilfred and I enjoyed a great lunch of falafel and shwarma sandwiches at a local ex-pat place. I’m told that they have a great Friday night ex-pat dance crowd…unfortunately, I’ll be gone on Friday.