Merry Christmas

From the Mokouenza Family

Getting ready for Christmas

Soon to celebrate my 4th Christmas in Africa, my 2nd Christmas married, and my 1st Christmas with my beautiful daughter!

Home alone...

But not really alone because I have my baby!

 I’m also enjoying listening to audio books and sermons and coloring, thanks to Margaret who left me her beautiful coloring book with scripture verses and fun designs!

I never would have thought I’d have so much spare time with a two-month-old, but now that she’s on a good schedule (finally!) I have lots of time to do other things. 

Catching up on laundry and enjoying my little buddy while my husband is away traveling. 

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. 

The trip

The trip to take Margaret back to Brazzaville was an adventure. It was baby Molly’s first trip out of town. 

The journey consists of a long bus ride with several stops and a long stretch of bad roads. 

We got an early start on the day. After a night with little sleep I woke before 5am and got myself and the baby ready. I managed to get Molly changed and dressed and partially fed, eat a few bites of breakfast myself but sadly left my hot coffee sitting on the kitchen table as we piled into the taxi with luggage and back packs. 

I secured Molly in the baby carrier where she stayed for the majority of the trip. I opted for this as the safest and most convenient choice so I could have both hands free for accessing necessary items and bracing myself against the seat in front of me so Molly would not get bumped around too much.

She slept solid for the first several hours, despite loud talking, jostling and music on the bus. She even stayed asleep through my quick shopping stop in Gamboma where the crowds are thick and the pressure to buy things is overwhelming. 

I normally would just buy a few things from the bus window but I had to get out to find what we wanted to give to my sisters in law in Brazzaville. I bought mangoes, pineapples, bananas, mbala, boiled peanuts and kwanga, and got back into the bus with some help with the bags from friendly hands.

Margaret and I ate bananas and peanuts for travel snacks. 

The problem of water... to drink or not to drink. After a bout of diarrhea and vomiting yesterday morning I was a bit dehydrated so drinking plenty of water today while traveling is a must. Unfortunately you can’t make a “toilet” stop anytime. It kind of depends on the driver and the Will of the People. Majority rules.

Margaret and I listened to Christmas music, since it’s officially December. We shared the earbuds and turned up the volume to try to hear our tunes over the general racket. 

After a few hours on the road we came to a stop. There was a large sections of washed out road ahead and a car had gotten stuck blocking the route the bus must take. It was a detour to the left of the main road, which had such huge potholes the bus couldn’t get through that way. 

Almost everyone got out of the bus and walked on ahead. I stayed behind long enough to change a messy diaper and then Margaret and I joined the throng walking and standing and watching the progress.

Two massive trucks came through the main road and muscled directly through the deepest water-filled holes. Meanwhile another truck hauled out the car which was blocking our way. When the traffic cleared the bus came through, we all got back on, and the trip continued. 

By the end of it I’d say the trip went well. Molly did not make any enemies on the bus; nor did I. That means she kept her crying to a minimum. She was a good traveler and is already becoming a“cultured” two month old. 

This is the first of many trips. 

Molly is two months old!