THE MAYOMBE
THE MAYOMBE.
While we are waiting better days in our lifes, life just pass, it does it , fast or slow , doesen,t really matters, it teaches us how to accept all we got,it teaches us that all can be relative or imprescindible according our needs, those that ourselves create mentally, and this is how we often design our days in our little and complicated brain, all of this in words it may seem easy, but the wonderof life is, that never or almost never happen that we will really like.
This is how i was keep going here in Congo, inside my mental map, desires and hopes, but sometimes i found myself in a situation where i only could find the strength to push the bike, among piles and piles of sand, among miles and miles of sticky mud, all this consume my temper minute by minute , i was into the Mayombe, the jungle like they call it.
The Mayombe where everything happens under a grey cover of humidity, where the thick green colour is the predominant, and the solitude fills up the rest.
The natural wealth, petrol, wood and beauty belongs to foreign companies, that sometimes provoque emotions that almost become tears, this jungle sadlly is getting naked, a new big road is abaut to be finish, and the price of the evolution is that the little villages suffer huge big sand storms eveytime that those monsters(huge trucks), pass by, they dont evebn have the luck of seeing the stars during the night, the Mayombe hides the sky with it high humidity.
But fortunatlly not all is sadness, there are still corners, and people that sometimes surprissed me, till the point that my eyes open so wide with a white so white, and my lips form a big”O”..
The paradox is, that those places are difficult places, eventhough there is always place for the joy, or curiosity against the (mundele), foraign, they are so curious they love to explore.
And slowlly, slowlly i,ve got to Dolisie, not with out problems, that today are almost forgotten, only a rim of my bike that doesn,t turn round , but still wants to resist.Dolisie the third biggest city in Congo, a place full of dust,colour and peace, a place where you can also can have acces to internet, and where i had and have the pleasure to share my days with the Gaston,s familly, a social worker that opened wide the doors of their familly and also hes dreams, all of this with faith.
Gaston,s asked me to go to the radio, for a radio interview, and me i asked him if he could help me to find a place where i could help, during the interview, the word pigmee came out,my heart understud the message, and only two days later i find myself on the way to Dibindu,i bought under their petition clothes, medecins salt and a little caprice, some cigarretes!!!.
We arrived there, a place named Kukebecane a bantu village that we used for the donation, because the pigme village is not accesible by car, we arrived on the Afrikan time, twoo hours later!!, my white unger was full of embarrassing, but again my surprise was that when we arrived the pigmees werent there yet, i felt the relieve, but at the same time i thought,”Joder”, where the f….ck they are?.
But soon, from far i could see little points become staints, then become a draft, to become figures till the moment i had in front me Mr Ngot, chief of the village, in fact a huge green jacket made in Armani transported him inside, we shacked our hands and hes smile was nervous , mine too!!!!.
But smothlly the hut that was prepared for the ocasion, filled up with shouts and laughs, breacking the existent silence, villagers made a big circle and in the middle with the only chairs existent, we sat Mr Ngot, the bantu chief, the director of social affairs and me, the tradition says it.
all whent ok, with a kind of joy that only them can understand, for me seamed so serious, but the complicity of the lovelly kids breacked my ignorance to hapinness,we talkes, we clapped, we shared desires and hopes, and sudentlly like it started it finished, lots of little points disapeared to the horizon, they returned to their realities, so many things happened, and today only some pictures and memories are the only thing it last, me i had a wish for them, and for them was the chance to tell me that, from the window of their hearts, they can only see huge fences, and today because of me, if it was only for a few hours they could jump those fences, and get a bit of liberty to breack what the established norms say.
I left happy, and when i see the first brocken house in Dolisie city, people new abaut it , and they where greatful for this little action, another dream acomplished, yes, my dears Afrika is like this and deserves much more.
So now i am just busy to recover my messy mental map, placing those little points that talk abaut hope, and for all of this , i only have words of gratitude to all of you that makes Gambada like this, gratitude for those that made true this little action and today desire to be anonimous.Gratitude for Daniel, Gabriel Gaston and familly and many oters to open their houses and lifes to me, gratitude to Mr Ngot and all the pigmee comunity to show me that you are very different that what usually people we think abaut the pigmes, thanks a lot, also thanks to the Mayombe to allow me to pass trough and arriving here.
Little points disapear slowlly into the Mayombe, the sound of happy songs , tells me abaut the joy, they disapear into that place where they cannot see the stars , but they can touch the hope..
THE MAYOMBE CHEEKY GREEN.
HEALTH AND GOOD JOURNEY, NANDO.
IN THE SILENCE WE FIND THE BIGGEST RESPECT…