Instead of giving you the usual blog, here is my journal entry from March 2, slightly revised. I figured since I had not told you guys what my day was like, this should be adiquate: (and yes, sometimes I do journal as if I am talking to someone. Crazy? Not if I post it to others later.)
March 2, 2009
Before I tell you about my trip in Cacine that happened in February, let me tell you what has gone on the last 22 and a half hours.
Around 10 o’clock at headquarters Kevin stopped by my room before turning off the generator to note that there had been an attempt on the life of the General of the Army. He mentioned an explosion and gunfire. I figured this was something similar to the time that there was an attempt on the president’s life a couple months ago and passed it off as one of those things that happens all the time in small, poor countries in
After an hour or so I was preparing for bed thinking of how nice it would be if I had a mosquito net as the last night I was up for some time in the late hours trying to kill the mysteriously loud mosquito roaming around my room.
I woke up at around 4:24am to the worst sound. That same lame mosquito was making his rounds in my room just for the fun of it, probably taking some of my blood and giving me malaria while he was at it. After about 5 minutes of useless searching I gave up. I figured it was worth it just to go back to sleep. I lay there for five minutes thinking of how rotten my feelings were towards that mosquito. It was the worst.
I was just drifting back to sleep when at approximately 4:36 am I heard another terrible sound, much louder then a mosquito. It was somewhat familiar. If it were deeper and longer lasting I could have mistaken it for thunder, but it had more of an abrupt clap to it; a bomb. My heart rate jumped to a pretty decent speed, only to increase upon hearing the pattering of gun shots. They were similar to the sound of someone popping bubble wrap, except a little less playful. I calmed myself down fairly quickly as the noise seemed to die off after a couple minutes. I managed to convince myself it was normal African activity, plus I had the comfort of hearing the old night guard wake up and turn his flashlight on (he usually ‘guards’/sleeps near my window).
My mind was turning back towards sleep as another explosion could be heard followed by more gunfire. The second one got the heart palpitating at its peak rate for the evening, but again I was able to convince myself that it was alright. The pattern of explosions followed by gunfire continued for a decent hour and a half or so with short breaks in between. Explosions and whatnot got less concerning as it went on.
The field leader stopped by while it was still dark and mentioned that it would be best to pack the bags incase we had to evacuate. I thought this was a brilliant idea and packed up my stuff and put it outside my room.
I do not think many of us got much/any sleep that night after the first explosion. We got together when it started getting light outside and the different missionaries exchanged information. At this time it was confirmed that the General of the Army had been killed and that there was an attack at the president’s residence. We soon learned that the president and his wife were also killed in the attacks. In case the night’s explosions were not indication enough; this was confirmation that it was not an every day activity for a small, poor African country and that we should probably try leave
The streets were not the same as usual. Instead of the noise of people yelling for Toka-Tokas and the bustle of morning activities, there was silence met by the odd motor passing by. As the hours passed the streets became slightly more littered with people and I had breakfast. We decided to wait in the mission until we got some more information.
We left after we heard that it was possible to get out of the city. I went in the first vehicle with a silent/crying Nathan, I wondered what he thought of the whole situation at about 6 years old. We took back roads and got redirected a bit but eventually we made our way onto the right road (after driving a bit the wrong way on the street and passing the median at the first possible spot).
It was strange driving on the roads being the only car in sight. Every gas station was closed and we were low on fuel. By the time we got to the exit point it was clear that they were not letting anybody through. The guards were under orders not to let anybody at all through the road, and of course it was the only way out of the city.
After 2 hours of waiting and a decent amount of talking on the mission leaders behalves, we had a guard come out with us to the car, make sure everything was all right and lead us through. Apparently the bible college that the missionaries who we are staying with started was sending out the soldier’s cousin to
He drove with us across the line and got out. While he was in the car I looked at his aging gun and noted how it could use some polishing and how the tip had broken off a bit.
The only other real check point a soldier at the post was a Christian and we were let through immediately. In the end we all made it down to Nchumbe safely and that was good. For me it was not even that different of a time as it was directly in my plans to leave for Nchumbe at approximately 10 o’clock that morning anyways (we left at about 9:48).
Nchumbe is hot. The people were not joking when thy said it was the hottest area in
Despite the heat, Nchumbe is a pretty cool place. I am pretty sure it is actually the middle of nowhere, just a plot of land a bunch of kilometers off the main road. They turned it into a
I got a tour of the area and ate my first cashew fruit. They look a little like a yellow or red apple with a nut growing out the bottom. They are soft and juicy and you do not eat them, just get the juice out. The juice pours out as you eat it and you have to be careful not to get it on your clothing as it stains. Duly noted? Dearly noted? Meh. Noted.
Oh ya, I gotta mention, I ended up having my birthday in Nchumbe. I got to open some sweet presents sent earlier by my family which was rad. They baked a banana bread cake for me there. Instead of candles I had two matches. It was nice because it meant no wax on the cake. Hurray! The gifts here were sweet. Dutch Blitz can now be enjoyed here and my new mug is the talk of the town. Haza.
