''Jesus loves you"-Noah, my 2 year old nephew's response to the story I'm about to tell.
Once I felt the slightest bit better Katalina and I decided to leave Conakry in a hurry so we could meet the new stage. Our excitement helped us face the dreaded 15 hour voyage in a bush taxi that lay ahead. We got out to find a taxi to take us to gare by 5:30. It was still dark and I was grateful that the security guard was willing to help me flag down a taxi. 20 minutes went by with a couple of cars passing, some really nice private cars and some really shady ones transporting ladies of the night. The day forebode the events I'm about to tell.
Finally around 6:15 a car stopped and I asked the driver if he could take us to the gare for Kankan. He said he could and it would cost 70,000 FGN. I informed him that I know what the real price is and that he should just go instead. After discussing the price with the help of the security guard, the real price was finally agreed on of 20,000 FGN.
My heart rate was so high causing my recovering stomach to ache. While I listened to Katalina argue with the man about his mischievious attempts of ripping off people. The more the man talked, the more I wish I would've spotted the signs of his substance abuse before getting into the car. He didn't know where he was going and abruptly stopped claiming he needed to fix a flat. While he was outside seeing to the repair we decided it best to get another taxi, and to avoid any conflict we would pay him half the fare even though he didn't fulfill the contract. As I settled the fare with the 2nd taxi I look over to the commotion and see Katalina being shaken like a rag doll by the drunk. She was screaming in French and cursing in English causing a crowd to rush in attempts of stopping her attacker. Once the man was detained, he fabricated a story that a fare of 100,000 FGN was agreed on. The crowd was quick to pick up on the man's chemically altered state and helped us escape using the 2nd taxi.
I got away with the uncontrollable shakes and Katalina got away with a torn dress. Our condition was quickly calmed by the friendly Malinke people at the Kankan gare. Just as I thought we were in the clear, the crazy man blocks our moving car with another car full of his friends. He starts yelling how we owe him 100,000 FGN while hitting the car. My shaking fingers manage to call Ousmane, our safety and security director. Ousmane did his magic and we drove away around 8:00.
I'm still shaking when our car gets stopped again. But this time it's in a busy intersection by the police accompanied by the crazy entourage. It's been over an hour of praying to stop me from crying and at this point I lose it. Katalina loses it too, which still blows my mind because she never cries. My prayers were answered in the form of an angel who happened to be in the car with us.
Her name is Diaka. She told us she knew somebody who worked for the Peace Corps and that we should call him. In her perfect English she said we should call Ousmane, our director whom we just got off the phone with. All throughout the police investigation she was there mediating,talking to Ousmane and the police, and giving me courage. I can still hear her saying, "Don't show them you're scared. God is with you."
God is always there, but it seems like it's only during times of desperation that we recognize Him. God was there giving me the courage to stare in the devil's eye when he told his lies to the police. God was there in the nice police man who said,"not everyone is like that man, we are not all corrupt." God was there providing us a competent driver to handle the rain slicked, windy, and broken roads. God was there in Diaka.
I don't believe in coincedences, so I delighted in God's grace. I told Ousmane's favorite student that God sent her to me and she laughed. Her laughter stopped when I told her I was Filipino. She works for the Philippine Consulate in Conakry.
Once I felt the slightest bit better Katalina and I decided to leave Conakry in a hurry so we could meet the new stage. Our excitement helped us face the dreaded 15 hour voyage in a bush taxi that lay ahead. We got out to find a taxi to take us to gare by 5:30. It was still dark and I was grateful that the security guard was willing to help me flag down a taxi. 20 minutes went by with a couple of cars passing, some really nice private cars and some really shady ones transporting ladies of the night. The day forebode the events I'm about to tell.
Finally around 6:15 a car stopped and I asked the driver if he could take us to the gare for Kankan. He said he could and it would cost 70,000 FGN. I informed him that I know what the real price is and that he should just go instead. After discussing the price with the help of the security guard, the real price was finally agreed on of 20,000 FGN.
My heart rate was so high causing my recovering stomach to ache. While I listened to Katalina argue with the man about his mischievious attempts of ripping off people. The more the man talked, the more I wish I would've spotted the signs of his substance abuse before getting into the car. He didn't know where he was going and abruptly stopped claiming he needed to fix a flat. While he was outside seeing to the repair we decided it best to get another taxi, and to avoid any conflict we would pay him half the fare even though he didn't fulfill the contract. As I settled the fare with the 2nd taxi I look over to the commotion and see Katalina being shaken like a rag doll by the drunk. She was screaming in French and cursing in English causing a crowd to rush in attempts of stopping her attacker. Once the man was detained, he fabricated a story that a fare of 100,000 FGN was agreed on. The crowd was quick to pick up on the man's chemically altered state and helped us escape using the 2nd taxi.
I got away with the uncontrollable shakes and Katalina got away with a torn dress. Our condition was quickly calmed by the friendly Malinke people at the Kankan gare. Just as I thought we were in the clear, the crazy man blocks our moving car with another car full of his friends. He starts yelling how we owe him 100,000 FGN while hitting the car. My shaking fingers manage to call Ousmane, our safety and security director. Ousmane did his magic and we drove away around 8:00.
I'm still shaking when our car gets stopped again. But this time it's in a busy intersection by the police accompanied by the crazy entourage. It's been over an hour of praying to stop me from crying and at this point I lose it. Katalina loses it too, which still blows my mind because she never cries. My prayers were answered in the form of an angel who happened to be in the car with us.
Her name is Diaka. She told us she knew somebody who worked for the Peace Corps and that we should call him. In her perfect English she said we should call Ousmane, our director whom we just got off the phone with. All throughout the police investigation she was there mediating,talking to Ousmane and the police, and giving me courage. I can still hear her saying, "Don't show them you're scared. God is with you."
God is always there, but it seems like it's only during times of desperation that we recognize Him. God was there giving me the courage to stare in the devil's eye when he told his lies to the police. God was there in the nice police man who said,"not everyone is like that man, we are not all corrupt." God was there providing us a competent driver to handle the rain slicked, windy, and broken roads. God was there in Diaka.
I don't believe in coincedences, so I delighted in God's grace. I told Ousmane's favorite student that God sent her to me and she laughed. Her laughter stopped when I told her I was Filipino. She works for the Philippine Consulate in Conakry.
