19 hour African bus ride.
In Mozambique not many people speak English. Because of this our host helped us with booking a bus from Chiomio to Maputo. In order to buy bus tickets my host drove me to a local “bus station”. The “bus station” was actually someone’s home and in the back of there house were a few busses they had purchased. The man we bought the tickets from ask us to get on the bus and point at which seats we wanted. We discussed pricing with him and then he hand wrote us bus tickets.
The day we go to leave on the bus we arrived at the towns bus station (where all the busses go) early. The driver tried to charge us all for our bags and we had to call our host to speak with him because while we had bought our tickets the day before we asked if we would need to pay for our bags and the answer was no. Finally after straightening out the bag situation we load the bus. The seats are all very small and squished together. The bus is packed and just when you think they will close the doors because all the seats are taken, they bring in plastic stools to place in the aisle for more people to come cram in. Now the bus is extremely full. I’ve been sick and I wave in and out of thinking I’m going to throw up. The dirties and sex filled music videos I have ever seen in my life played on the screen with the volume at full blast. The whole bus was filled with a stench of what smelled like tire lit on fire mixed with week old puke mixed with BO. 5 hours passes by and around every half hour we are pulled over by the police and questioned (it’s normal for busses to be contentiously pulled over here). Every time we get pulled over we wonder if this will be the time they take our passports from us. We’ve heard many stories of police asking for passports, taking them and then charging ridiculous amounts to get it back. Finally, when passing by a military base the police stopped us and demanded our passports. We all had to get off the bus and wait as they took them.
A muslim man named Yesme was, by the grace of God on our bus. We had no idea until we were about to leave and cheered/ we in shock as he stepped foot on the bus. Through out the month e had gotten to know him well because he was the owner of a café we loved. We ask him if he would take us to the mosque with him so we could see it and understand Muslims better. It was one of my favorite moments in Chimoio. We went with him and helped him understand that there are differences between Christians and Muslims but Christian desire to love well and we got to apologize if they haven’t received love from Christians. Yesme was very moved and on our last day he provided a free lunch to us of whatever we wanted in the café. We thought it was our last goodbye at lunch, so you can imagine the shock on our faces when he stepped on the bus.
Back to the bus ride and the reason I tell you about Yesme is because he was a forager as well. He was from Assyria and the police wanted his passport too. We prayed outside the police station and the police gave us our passports back no problem. I was shocked. The same was not true for Yesme. They charged him quite a bit of money leaving him upset because of the discrimination. We offered to help him pay for it, but he wouldn’t take our money.
In the midst of all of this, I had to use the restroom and had been holding it for multiple hours. No restroom was in site so I saw no other option then to go to the bathroom in a bush, amongst a large amount of scattered trash, on a military base. Bum out and 3 friends to block the view. As I finish, a women comes running out of her house yelling at me. I start to run and then realize the bus is still in the same place so I stop. She screams in portigies and points to where I had just releaved myself. I have no idea what she is saying. She picks up a piece of trash next to the used toilet paper and hands it to me to pick up my toilet paper. “What the heck?” I think “there is so much trash around and you want me to pick up and move this small amount of toilet paper”. Out of respect I took the trash from her hand and with it picked up my toilet paper. Walking 6 feet away I drop it into a large pit of trash and head back to the bus to sanitize my hands. Returning to the bus my teammate report to me that the bus has broken down and we will have to wait for a new one to come.
Luckily there was a small store nearby and my teammates and I went and rested there. I would say it was a relaxing break where we were able to get cold water and snacks, but our relaxation was quickly broken by another man on our bus who was for lack of a better word a pervert. He stalked our girls and asked one if she was married when she said no he started committing on her body and asking if he could be the lucky guy. I’ve never wanted a bus to hurry and get anywhere so fast. 2 ½ hours later the bus arrived. We loaded back on. The smell worsened, the air humid, my stomach killing. Moputo here we come.
