I have been up and down this stretch of road from Zongo to Mole more than fifty times in the past two months. That amounts to almost 100 hours. As I wrote in a previous post, it wasn't long before I started to reconsider the difficult journey and the radiating life around this road. It meanders roughly parallel to the Ubangi river, and it changes just like a river. There are always people and animals on and around virtually every meter of it, and a multitude of pedestrians, motorcycles, SUVs, and very large trucks traverse it constantly. Goods are brought to markets and households sell things on little wooden stands all along way. It is spotted with houses, churches, trees, and variably utilized market stalls. I wave to almost everyone I see, and most wave back enthusiastically. At this point, after seven weeks, they anticipate me coming and beat me to the gesture. I give and collect hundreds of smiles each day, and sometimes other things. Today was a day for other things on the road. I don't know its name, but it will be with me for a very long time.
Yaya, Angela, and I were making good progress along the way until we hit the "third bad place." The third bad place is getting worse as the rainy season continues. It is a series of hillsides that are gradually eroding. As soon as we hit this stretch, we almost slid into an impossible place. Yaya deftly rocked us back and forth and pulled us out, but just barely. As we rerouted through a yard and bushes, I noticed what I thought was a child laying in the road ahead. For a moment, I though his mother was on top of him, spanking him. As we got closer, I reconsidered and thought it was two girls either fighting or playing on the ground. When we came upon them, I realized that one woman was wailing and throwing herself on the ground while the other was trying to subdue her. At that instant, I saw a man holding the body of a young boy, perhaps four or five, partially draped in a blue cloth of some sort. The child must have died just minutes before we arrived. We drove past this scene in slow motion, helplessly as we understood the drama.
There is life and death on this road. Every day, I see new born chicks, ducklings, goats, sheep, piglets, guinea fowl, and toddlers. On other occasions, we have stopped at impromptu road blocks to hand out a few dollars to help with a pending funeral. Today, for the first time I have been here, Yaya hit and killed a chicken. The road gives and takes.
We had a quiet day at the camp. I did a lesson on slang and figures of speech that quickly diverged into more vulgar territory courtesy of American movies and rap music. We handled it tastefully, but in the back of my mind I lamented these exports of ours. After a few hours of laughing and blushing (yes Africans blush, another post, another time) we headed out on a field trip to the fish ponds. Many of the young children came along, and I managed to make my way through the paths and fields with four children holding my two hands. Yvon did a great job or identifying things and the kids snapped up the vocabulary. Teddy and Juliet were late, so they had Yaya bring them down in the Landcruiser. Knowing that I wouldn't be here much longer, and that Yaya is very patient and accommodating. I decided on an experiment - I have no idea how many people can fit in a Volkswagen Beetle, but I do now know how many can fit in and on a Landcruiser - twenty two!. We had a great time making our way back and the kids loved it. When we got back to the school, I was asked to visit the shelter of our two blind students. Everyone loaded back up and we drove down to the market near their place. I spent a few minutes with the students who asked me to help them improve their resources there, and Yaya and I headed back up to the school. Three children managed to scramble aboard - great fun for them and me :)
We then made our way back to Zongo. I have one more day to go, and tomorrow night the staff will host a small party for me. They are very kind and helpful. Despite the terrible scene earlier today, I am still blessed for these experiences, and to be included in the daily lives of these people.
Not many pictures today, I wasn't really in the mood.
Yaya, Angela, and I were making good progress along the way until we hit the "third bad place." The third bad place is getting worse as the rainy season continues. It is a series of hillsides that are gradually eroding. As soon as we hit this stretch, we almost slid into an impossible place. Yaya deftly rocked us back and forth and pulled us out, but just barely. As we rerouted through a yard and bushes, I noticed what I thought was a child laying in the road ahead. For a moment, I though his mother was on top of him, spanking him. As we got closer, I reconsidered and thought it was two girls either fighting or playing on the ground. When we came upon them, I realized that one woman was wailing and throwing herself on the ground while the other was trying to subdue her. At that instant, I saw a man holding the body of a young boy, perhaps four or five, partially draped in a blue cloth of some sort. The child must have died just minutes before we arrived. We drove past this scene in slow motion, helplessly as we understood the drama.
There is life and death on this road. Every day, I see new born chicks, ducklings, goats, sheep, piglets, guinea fowl, and toddlers. On other occasions, we have stopped at impromptu road blocks to hand out a few dollars to help with a pending funeral. Today, for the first time I have been here, Yaya hit and killed a chicken. The road gives and takes.
We had a quiet day at the camp. I did a lesson on slang and figures of speech that quickly diverged into more vulgar territory courtesy of American movies and rap music. We handled it tastefully, but in the back of my mind I lamented these exports of ours. After a few hours of laughing and blushing (yes Africans blush, another post, another time) we headed out on a field trip to the fish ponds. Many of the young children came along, and I managed to make my way through the paths and fields with four children holding my two hands. Yvon did a great job or identifying things and the kids snapped up the vocabulary. Teddy and Juliet were late, so they had Yaya bring them down in the Landcruiser. Knowing that I wouldn't be here much longer, and that Yaya is very patient and accommodating. I decided on an experiment - I have no idea how many people can fit in a Volkswagen Beetle, but I do now know how many can fit in and on a Landcruiser - twenty two!. We had a great time making our way back and the kids loved it. When we got back to the school, I was asked to visit the shelter of our two blind students. Everyone loaded back up and we drove down to the market near their place. I spent a few minutes with the students who asked me to help them improve their resources there, and Yaya and I headed back up to the school. Three children managed to scramble aboard - great fun for them and me :)
We then made our way back to Zongo. I have one more day to go, and tomorrow night the staff will host a small party for me. They are very kind and helpful. Despite the terrible scene earlier today, I am still blessed for these experiences, and to be included in the daily lives of these people.
Not many pictures today, I wasn't really in the mood.
The Fractal Tree
Working on American Idioms
Her perpetual smile
Visiting a couple of friends
Alan Paton's book Cry the Beloved Country begins with a short descriptive chapter of South Africa, opening with the sentence, "There is a lovely road . . ."
ReplyDeleteJC
Without a doubt, one of my favorite male authors (of fiction anyway). If ever a white man understood and loved this place, it was him.
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