Friday, October 24, 2008

The Long Ride

Sorry... This actually got sent before I was finished writing it, so you guys only got part of the story. We'll try again...

August 27, 2008
After my 30 minute nap, the day began. The bus we rode on was very odd. All of our bags were loaded on top and strapped down, and then we were seated. When the bus looked full, the driver started unfolding hidden seats from who knows where. What I thought was my armrest folded down and became another seat. As you can imagine, it was pretty crowded. And Africans here don't necessarily smell very pleasant. The ride itself wasn't bad except for the smell and the music. Amazingly enough,the bus had a TV screen that opened down, and we watched an odd mixture of American rap and Chadian comedy shows. We made one stop before Kelo to drop off some people, and when we stopped we got some food. My first encounter with Chadian food wasn't
all that bad (although, I couldn't eat very much because I wasn't feeling very good). We had long baguettes with some kind of peanut-based toppings that looked suspiciously like meat (it wasn't). In the middle of eating,we realized that our bus had started pulling away and honking its horn. So we ran for it while all the locals laughed. Apparently that's a common tactic to get everyone back on the bus because we certainly weren't the last people to board. When we got to Kelo, we managed to get all of our bags while Stefan haggled with the mototaxi (clandos) drivers. It was horrible. They all circled around us like a pack of hungry wolves.Thankfully, Stefan speaks French well, and he was able to get everything worked out. So we strapped our carry-on luggage on the back and climbed on behind each of our drivers. Coming to Africa,I know I'll have a lot of "firsts." Riding a clando (like a motorcycle) in a skirt was definitely a first. It was interesting and so much fun! I think our drivers were racing each other because they kept trying to pass each other. We got to stop every once in a while to wait for Jason's driver though, because he was slower and less experienced, and he kept running off the road. Things were made even more exciting by the fact that there were often large, muddy puddles in the road to be dodged. At one point, my driver had very carefully guided our clando to the edge of the road to avoid a particularly big puddle when all of a sudden, there was a huge splash! I gasped in shock at the cold, dirty water that had spattered all over me. Somehow, Jason's driver had just driven fullspeed right into the puddle, soaking all four of us. We all looked at each other and burst into laughter.
It was at that moment that I knew everything would be okay. I'm still not sure how or why I felt that way, but somehow I felt reassured that all would be well. Funny how God can use even a puddle of mud to make me feel better. The rest of the trip was uneventful and somewhat relaxing. Total travel time was around 7 hours. The whole experience made me realize that sometimes you just have to laugh at life, even when it splashes your face with mud.

Sunday, October 5, 2008

The Long Ride

August 27, 2008
After my 30 minute nap, the day began. The bus we rode on was very odd. All of our bags were loaded on top and strapped down, and then we were seated. When the bus looked full, the driver started unfolding hidden seats from who knows where. What I thought was my armrest folded down and became another seat. As you can imagine, it was pretty crowded. And Africans here don't necessarily smell very pleasant. The ride itself wasn't bad except for the smell and the music. Amazingly enough,the bus had a TV screen that opened down, and we watched an odd mixture of American rap and Chadian comedy shows. We made one stop before Kelo to drop off some people, and when we stopped we got some food. My first encounter with Chadian food wasn't all that bad (although, I couldn't eat very much because I wasn't feeling very good). We had long baguettes with some kind of peanut-based toppings that looked suspiciously like meat (it wasn't). In the middle of eating,we realized that our bus had started pulling away and honking its horn. So we ran for it while all the locals laughed. Apparently that's a common tactic to get everyone back on the bus because we certainly weren't the last people to board. When we got to Kelo, we managed to get all of our bags while Stefan haggled with the mototaxi (clandos) drivers. It was horrible. They all circled around us like a