The return

I don’t think I mentioned the fact that Margaret and my trip to Oyo the first time was made a bit uncomfortable by the fact that a drunk man sat across from us and harassed us (verbally) most of the way. I tried to get the bus assistant to make him move but no luck. I did inform him that the man was chugging whiskey which is supposedly not allowed on the bus. They managed to take an already empty bottle away from him, but he had another in his sack. Never in my life have i seen someone consume so much whiskey at one time. No one would help us or change seats with us or the man. 

Anyway, that was my last trip home to Oyo, so this time I was on the lookout.

The bus wasn’t full so I settled into a two seat spot with Molly and our stuff. Since my day had started at 4am I was already tired and dozed off. I woke with a start when a man hit me and told me to move. I was a bit groggy at first and I moved over and he sat down, but I soon realized I’d made a big mistake. I looked around and the bus had filled up mostly but I still saw an empty seat nearby. I started trying to convince him to move. He wasn’t as drunk as the man on our first trip but he wasn’t going to be a good seat partner for 8 hours. He refused and demanded I move. Since I’d gotten there first and there were other free seats still, I held my ground. I also had a baby and two bags, and despite his demands that I move he was blocking my way.

A fight ensued which included lots of yelling and loud talking and some pushing and shoving. Unfortunately the majority of people seemed to be on his side. I refused to move and asked for someone (anyone) to change seats with him. I didn’t mind having someone there but not this guy.

The man argued and said many rude things and the bus assistant kept demanding he get out of the way so an old lady could switch seats with him and come sit by me instead.

Another lady who had been on the bus ride with Margaret and I and the drunk man was able to testify to the people nearest to her that I wasn’t crazy and did have a reason for trying to get this man away from me. Everyone who wasn’t paying attention to her testimonial just seemed mad at me and some of told me to move. They were not impressed by a crazy white woman with a baby strapped to her yelling to be hear above the racket. 

Moving myself was not part of my agenda. So I ignored the advice. Since I was by the window and blocked in by the Drunk Man this would not have been easy. Also I had no intention of giving in this time. 

He was telling me to move but not even making it possible for me to get out if I wanted to. 

As soon as he stood up for a minute I moved into his seat and pushed his bag out into the aisle with my feet and I stayed put. When he started to shove his way back and sit down on top of me and Molly, I shoved harder, and pushed him back into the aisle which made him yell. 

A lot of people had opinions and rude things to say, most of all Mr. Drunk Man. Other people just stared at me disapprovingly while others watched the show with amusement. I have realized that most people prefer a scene to lending a hand. My husband confirms this. 

Finally between me and the bus assistant and the old woman, we got so where the woman was with me and the Drunk Man was across the aisle from us. 

I would rather sit with a large woman than a drunk man any day. Never mind only getting half a seat and minimal foot room.

By the time things were settled I was feeling somewhat emotionally unbalanced (perhaps due to little sleep and the fact that I felt like everyone was against me). That was also probably the first time I had really stood up and made a scene in front of so many people. I thought about what my husband might have done if he was here and I took to staring out the window so I wouldn’t start crying and continue an already unpleasant scene. 

Later, when I asked Orcxance about it, he said that when something like that happens not only is in necessary to battle verbally but getting physical may also be called for. 

This all took place before we’d reached Kintele; a great start to my first trip alone with Molly. 

It was raining as we left the city. The slum areas on the outskirts of Brazzaville were badly flooded. The river had come up and washed over the swamps. Looking down from the bus I could see dozens of flooded houses with belongings out on tables or cars or on top of tin roofs to keep them out of the water.

The rest of the trip progressed well except the occasional large mud puddle or pothole. Molly did cry some but I was able to calm her down pretty quickly and we made it home and were met by Orcxance and our driver at the bus station. 

It is so good to be home.