However, I felt determined to do all that I could to make the trip to see Tamba and wanted to stay true to my word...I made plans with a few of our day workers to take a 3-day trip up to Kono, but I had no idea at the time what I was getting myself into. The trip was supposedly an 8-hour drive away, but I was warned that the road was bad. Harry, the only day volunteer who ended up getting the time off work to come along for the adventure, had reassured me it wouldn't be that long of a trip...I told him that my guess was 10 hours. "No, no it will not take 10 hours," he argued. "Well, this is Africa and I am just being realistic," I told him.
The bus to Kono was supposed to leave at 6am on Saturday morning. We met the bus at the junction right at 6 and were taken to the main bus stop to load the remaining passengers. I was amazed that the bus came on time and that it was a nice, big, comfortable tour bus. It looked like something you would see in America...and it only cost 35,000 Leones for the journey (approximately $8.25). But, apparently the price had gone up 5,000 Leones (about $1.25) within a couple of days. The passengers became upset when they heard the quoted price. An argument broke out and there was murmuring among many of the passengers. Most of them got off the bus and the argument continued outside. I sat comfortably in my window seat with my pillow tucked under my head, doing my best to sleep through it all. It was far too early to be awake on a Saturday morning and I had no intention of getting involved in the drama.
We sat for another hour while the discussion continued. Apparently the passengers agreed to pay the extra 5,000 Leones, but several union workers were present and would not allow the bus to leave because "the change in price had not been confirmed." Instead, they loaded us onto smaller, less comfortable "buses" which were more like poda-podas...they had hard, uncomfortable seats, no room for luggage, and very little space to move. The workers saw me, the only white person in sight, and offered me a seat near the front (This is pretty typical hospitality among the Africans for white people). It was a nice gesture, but no more comfortable than the other seats...it pretty much felt like I was sitting on a slab of wood. We sat in the bus all loaded up and ready to go for about an hour...and then another hour...and another. I know that patience is not my strong point, but I was really frustrated that it had been a total of four hours since we first arrived at the bus...and we had not gone anywhere! I decided to keep my mouth shut despite the frustration I was having. I have traveled enough in Africa to know that half the time you spend on the journey ends up being spent in the waiting process. Harry turned to me and said "I'm glad that it doesn't come as a surprise to you and that you understand how it is in Africa."
We continued to sit and wait, but both of us were still annoyed. Apparently we weren't the only ones. After four hours had passed, several of the passengers started arguing with the driver. "Why didn't you just let us take the other bus and leave if you were going to just make us sit here for hours," one woman demanded. "We could've been halfway around the world by now," another man said as he pointed to his watch. The passengers' voices started to grow louder as they expressed their frustration and anger. I wanted to introduce them to the American expression "Time is money." They had just wasted our time, so the 5,000 Leones they had saved us meant nothing to us now. I decided that probably wouldn't be the best testimony, though, so I just kept it to myself. I didn't actually need to say anything though. The driver (who was one of the union workers) realized that the passengers were upset and things were going downhill. Within five minutes of all the complaints, he started up the bus and we were on our way. If we had known that was all it took to get us moving, I'm pretty sure we would've said something much sooner. TIA.
I do have to say that there was one positive thing that came out of the long wait. A woman saw me when I was waiting outside and asked if I was with Mercy Ships. She went on to tell me that her granddaughter was having eye problems. She wanted to take her to our eye screening, but she didn't know where to go to take her. I was able to give her the information for the eye clinic and she was very grateful. "Thank you for the good work you are doing," she said warmly. It was a good reminder that you can always find something positive in every situation.
The trip to Kono wasn't too eventful. The road was pretty smooth for the first few hours, but it started getting progressively worse and worse. They weren't kidding when they said the road was bad. The rain had provided some huge pot holes and large puddles to make the ride a little more exciting. I wouldn't have minded if we were in one of the ship Landrovers...but my bum was already starting to go numb, so the bumpy ride didn't help. I have to say, I was amazed at the small children riding along with us. There was one little girl sitting near me who looked like she was about two years old. She didn't cry once the entire time we were driving along. I kept both of us entertained for awhile by making fishy faces. But, eventually that got old and she dozed off....as did I.
We finally arrived in the district of Kono at 8pm. There was a light at the end of the tunnel. At least we were in the right district. But, we still had to get to the city of Kono. We stopped at least 10 times to drop people off who lived outside of the city. Finally, at 9pm, we arrived at our destination. It had been 15 hours since we had gotten on the first bus and I was more than ready to be off the bus! We were greeted by Tamba's father and drove to their house in his "ambulance" that they use at the local hospital where he works.
I knew that the second I saw Tamba's big smile, the long journey would all be worth it! He wore a grin that reached ear to ear and gave me a big hug. "I started to think you weren't coming," he said. We met his brothers and sisters, uncles and aunts. They were all huddled together under the dimly-lit porch. Soon the rain started and we said goodbye to all the relatives while Harry, Tamba, myself, and Tamba's sister all went inside to talk for a bit. That night, I went to bed with the sound of the rain gently pattering on the tin roof above me. Needless to say, I had no problem sleeping after the long journey!
The next morning, we had breakfast and started getting ready for church. I had completely forgot to pack any "church clothes" and knew that I would be completely out of place in jean capris and a tank top. Kadiatu, Tamba's sister, realized my dilemma and came to the rescue. "Don't worry...I'm going to dress you," she said proudly. She pulled out one of her nicest African outfits and put it on me, finishing it off with a head wrap and baby blue high heels (which definitely did not match!)...As she finished, she took one look at me and said "Beyonce, you look like an African queen!" It was very sweet.
The church was a Roman Catholic Church, which was very different from any other churches I have attended here. Most of the African churches have lots of singing and dancing, but this one was much more conservative and traditional. The service ended about 30 minutes after we got there. I was a bit confused Kadiatu had told us that church was from 10am-12. We had arrived at 9:30. Turns out that the last service ends at 10. "That was even shorter than an Amerian service," Henry joked. Oh well. I can't say I was really in my comfort zone with all the liturgies anyway.
After the service, we went on a long walk to go visit Tamba's uncle who worked at the diamond mines. Kono is a well-known area for diamond mining and I had yet to see any of the mines, so I was really excited about it. We took a long walk out to the mines and then watched the men working in the mud. I was struck by how long and dirty the work actually is. They told us that sometimes they'll work all day and won't find any diamonds at all!
Later on, I was thinking about the lyrics of a worship song called "All in all." The line that hit me says: "Seeking you as a precious jewel, Lord to give up I'd be a fool." I thought of the diamond mines and the long hours of sifting mud and water just to find one small precious stone. And I realized that my relationship with God is supposed to be like that...striving for the precious treasure of knowing Him, no matter what it takes.
As we wrapped up our time with Tamba's uncle, he offered me a diamond he had found in the place pictured above. I thanked him for the offer, but graciously declined. It would be a nice gift, but I'm not going to be another white person who is known for coming to Kono for my own financial gain.
After our visit to the diamond mines, we came back to Tamba's house to relax for a bit. The kids from the village all swarmed around me, interested in the white girl who had shown up at their friend's house. I'm not sure how often white people actually come all the way up to Kono, but they all seemed very intrigued as they stroked the white skin on my arm and stared at my blue eyes. I had brought Tamba's favorite Curious George book with me, so I pulled it out and began to read stories to the kids. They all gathered around me to see the pictures and hear the stories. Even some of the grown ladies from the neighboring houses came over to see the pictures and hear about Curious George.
Later, Tamba's father took us to the Kono Hospital where he works as a family doctor. The conditions of the hospital and patients was sad and overwhelming. A few nurses came and asked Tamba's dad to have me come to see a few specific patients (seeing as I would have all the answers since I am a white nurse of course!)...the level of care was all very heart-breaking to me. The one positive thing out of the experience was that I was able to connect with one of the directors who helps with the feeding program and offer her some helpful information and ideas for their babies who are not growing as they should be.
Post-partum ward at the Kono Hospital
One month old preemie baby still only weighing in at one kilo
That night, Tamba's family decided that we needed to watch a "Beyonce film" to prove to me that I look like the Ghanaian actress Naria Buari, who plays Beyonce in several famous African films. They set up their tv, dvd players, and speakers on the front porch and then rigged it up in true African-style to the generator in the dirt. Several neighbors came over for the excitement and found a place on the porch as the sound blasted through the speakers. I was less than impressed with the film, but thanked them for showing it to me and told them I was glad I finally got to see one of Beyonce's films (although I still don't see why they think I look like her).
The next morning as we were getting ready to head out for the long journey home, Kadiatu asked me if I liked chicken. I didn't think much of it and told her that I did. Before I knew it, she had a small chicken all wrapped up and ready to go with us on our journey. I was hoping he would be a quiet passenger because I wasn't about to listen to a noisy chicken all the way home! Thankfully, he proved to be a good little chicken and kept quiet the whole way back. Harry told me that I needed to give the chicken a name, so I endearingly decided to call him Eli.
The trip back to Freetown took ten hours, which seemed short compared to the fifteen hours we had spent getting up there. When I arrived in the port, the big white ship I call my home was looking more inviting than ever. Needless to say, I was thankful to be off the bus after so many hours of traveling! At the same time, I know that my experience in Sierra Leone would not have been complete without at least one up-country trip in a public bus. I am thankful that I did it and I know that it meant so much to Tamba that we came up to visit. Seeing his big bright smile again and watching him walk proudly through town with his new straight feet made it so worth it!
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