After leaving class early, Tori and I went with Olivia out to a village for a youth conference (not to be confused with LDS Youth Conferences). All we knew is that we'd be done by 3... what we didn't know is that we'd be leaving the village by 3... and hitting rush hour traffic after our 2 hour commute. EVERYTHING takes longer in Africa.... don't believe me yet? Read on.
But like I was saying, the conference was great. More than a bit nerve racking, Tori and I had the chance to speak to the girls (and boys) about the importance of staying in school on behalf of Days for Girls. I've honestly waited to be involved with something like this for my entire life. It was so exciting to say a few words, but because of my thick accent (ha), my team reminded me that I needed to speak slowly.
After we spoke, we left because we were running late on our way back to the city. A little girl ran out of the school and handed me a piece of paper. She told me that she wanted me to be her friend. Her mother had just died, and she was living on her own. How could I not be? In her moment of extreme loneliness, all I wanted to do was just talk about the gospel to let her know that she is never truly alone. Luckily, her school is a part of the study (I think), so hopefully I'll have the chance to run into her again.
While we were there, the people let us try Mirinda grape soda, which naturally reminded me of my Africa pal Marinda... miss you girl. :) But other than a granola bar, a taste (literally) of rice and part of a roll, that's all I got to eat before dinner. Besides the point. When we stopped to get some rice, we met these beautiful girls who spoke little English, but had hearts the size of Africa.
The road we took seriously felt Indiana Jones-ish most of the way. It wasn't paved, SUPER bumpy, and the driver felt no need to slow down. If it gives you any idea, the trees on the side of the road are all red, because the cars and bodas kick up so much dust. It was really fun for a lot of the time, but then it started to make me sick (especially without food), so I dozed off to sleep.
We were supposed to meet our group at the compound to go check out a mosque in the city and then for dinner, but were running late, so we just opted to be dropped off at the mosque. We were seriously passing our compound when out of the corner of my eye, we see a man on a boda (motorcycles common in the city) get hit by a mutatu, and then run straight into our car. He hit the mirror of our car, and then came into the driver's door and my door until he fell off of his bike. I have to admit I was in total shock. The man was okay, but I seriously never need to be told twice to never ride a boda in the city. It's just WAY too dangerous. Luckily he wasn't going fast enough to impound the door or to personally hit me, so thank you to everyone sending prayers in my behalf to Africa today. The man who hit the boda driver took off before the police came, so our driver drove off as well.... Another shocking difference between America and this country. In all fairness, the women we were with said that the police would usually come, but that there was no use staying around if the man who hit the boda driver wasn't around to take accountability.
It turns out on the way back from the mosque, the mutatu carrying the other half of our BYU group was hit as well by a car. Everybody was alright in that crash too, so again, thank you thank you for the prayers. Combined prayers have a power that cannot be measured!
We finally made it to the mosque, and it really was beautiful and fascinating. Other than the fact that I was starving at this point, and that we got the jacked up mzungu price for admission, it was a great experience. After covering our heads and touring the prayer room, we got to climb to the top of the minaret. Using my clicker, we estimated that there were about 300 steps to the top. We got to watch the sunset as we looked over the city from the top and then listen to the call for prayer as it echoed over the loudspeakers over our heads. You could see everything, and while I don't know if I would say it was beautiful, it was astonishing- astonishing to see how many slums there are intermingled throughout the city.
After the mosque, we headed to an Indian restaurant in the city that had very positive reviews from past years. While I'm not much of a "try new things" kind of a girl, I'm giving more things a shot here, so off I went to the Indian restaurant. After ordering my drink, finishing my drink, and then ordering my food, we waited a total of not one, but TWO hours for our food (all in African fashion). Problem was that the owner did not want to split our group of 30 into groups of 5-6. She knew how much rice she wanted to serve us, how much naan she thought we needed, and at one point said that she wanted to pick an assortment of dishes to bring to us (with no sort of price benefit... just that she got to pick...) By the time it got there, everybody was grabbing a little bit of everything, which meant that my dinner that cost around $25 in the combined check resulted in Costco sample sized tidbits of food....
Scriptures, shower, and then the fort... I'll try again tomorrow.
:) It's fun to read your adventures Meg. Keep your chin up seester, He lives! :)
ReplyDelete