A Terrifying Lesson in Bodas

We have been traveling the past few weeks.  Our responsibilities have taken us to a few different countries where we’ve had the challenge and the pleasure of interacting with people of different cultures.  For the most part it has been a great blessing to listen, to learn and try to understand different perspectives.  It can be challenging, but well worth the challenge, to learn to see the world in a new way.

Island moto driver with passenger

Usually such things take time.  It is through repeated conversations and talking together over meals or cups of coffee and tea that you begin to appreciate the differences and understand the other’s culture.  But there are some things that can be a sort of high speed experience that leads to new understanding—specifically I’m talking about a boda ride.

On the islands, many people have motorcylces.  It is a major means of transportation.  Tom has often been a passenger on one in order to be able to get to trainings on the far side of the island.  Riding on the back of a motorcycle is not a new experience.  But in East Africa, you can get a motorcycle taxi to take you places—it’s called a boda.  You can even book it on Uber.  Traffic in  this East African capital is often terrible.  Getting across town at rush hour to pick up your daughter’s medication is a nightmare.  Suddenly, the idea of a boda looks like a great solution.  Destination: Hospital—and in no time, Bonface, the boda driver, has pulled up to the curb and off we go.  

Things you should know about boda drivers.  They don’t stop for red lights, they just weave through them. They see sidewalks as a completely valid path to their destination.  The emergency lane need only be two feet wide to be considered a viable through way.  All of these I found completely terrifying to experience as a passenger.  

Together with all our kids

Bonface would weave through the traffic like a snake through the grass, somehow avoiding hitting side view mirrors every time (how he did this I’m still not sure as I thought we would surely hit them every time).  As we zipped down that two foot space of emergency lane, crunching over gravel and narrowly avoiding wing mirrors, I looked down into the deep concrete ditch by the side of the road that I would surely go flying into if Bonface made a mistake.  Most terrifying of all was taking the long curve onto the bridge.  Bonface leaned into the curve.  I leaned out—thinking about those motorcycle racers who drag their heavily padded knees on the track when taking the tight turns and looking at my own knees only covered by a thin pair of jeans and wanting them as far away from the pavement as possible.

Bonface dropped me off at the hospital in a quarter of the time it would have taken in a taxi.  His demeanor was indifferent—not as if he had just tempted death multiple times, but more like the bored look of the amusement park operator, who lets you out after the roller coaster ride, “Sure, you’re excited, but I do this all day.  Don’t forget to collect all your belongings.”

As I walked, slightly unstably toward the hospital entrance, I thought about how this was probably an experience an American would never have—never be allowed to have—in the States.  I wasn’t troubled that it took a little while to get the medicine we had ordered.  It gave me a chance to settle down a bit before the return boda ride.

Before I mounted the back of Martin’s boda I told him, “I’m not in a hurry.  No need to go fast fast.”  He laughed.  He did seem to take it a little slower, but made ample use of the sidewalk.  I felt like yelling out to pedestrians, “Sorry” but judging by their demeanors, this was just the way things are, and even if I am still not completely comfortable, I now have a much greater appreciation and understanding of this new culture of boda driving!

PRAYERS ANSWERED
We are thankful that all our travels have gone smoothly. We are thankful for a wonderful weekend with all our kids and one of their friends.  We are very relieved and thankful that we were able to get a 3 month supply of our daughter’s medications (something that took over a week with lots of phone calls where the outcome was uncertain several times). We are thankful to work with an organization that values partnership and working interculturally. Our sisters on Clove Island were able to meet and study together, though not all were able to make it. Our teammate has heard that she can begin work at the hospital!

PRAYERS REQUESTED
Pray for our teammate as she negotiates the terms and expectations of her volunteer work at the hospital. Continue to pray for our colleagues’ toddler— she has her follow-up scan to see if the intense treatment she has been doing has had a positive effect. We continue to pray for her healing and for her family in this exhausting ordeal. Pray for our travels and adjustment back to Clove Island. We will be traveling with some our daughter’s refrigerated medications (so she won’t have to bring them at the end of her school term). Pray that we wouldn’t have any trouble at airport security traveling with a cold bag. One of our island sister’s daughters has come down with horrible dental problems— pray for a relief from pain and for an easy solution to her problems (the islands only has very basic dentistry services). Continue to pray for our island sister on the small island who continues to face scrutiny and persecution— pray that she would remain encouraged and persevere!