Guinea - The Lions on the Road: Cycling London to Cape Town - page 108

heldoutsideaswesatonlawnchairsandafterwards,wewereinvitedtoanamazingdinner
and pie for dessert!
When we returned to the house, Lydie asked me if I wanted to go with her to the
town's celebration the next day. The celebration was a rite of passage for the males of the
village, i.e. ,thetimewhentheboysbecameadults.IagreedforIthoughtitwouldbeanex-
citing cultural opportunity. So I entered my bedroom and crawled under my bed's hanging
mosquito net and slept quite peacefully knowing that the next day was to be a rest day.
After breakfast with Lydie and Bruno, we went to attend Sunday mass at 9:30 a.m.
The church was decorated simply with wooden benches and bare walls. As the congrega-
tion filed in, the church was transformed. The people and music brought it to life. Again,
thewomensatontheleftandthemensatontheright.Afterthe2hourmass,weallmingled
outside. It was here that I met an individual that made me feel speechless.
It was a teenager who approached me and introduced himself. He explained that
when he and his father fled Liberia, they became separated and he was now looking for
him. He then asked me for a place to sleep and some work so he could feed himself. The
only thing I could do was to take his plea to Father Philip. After explaining the boy's di-
lemma to the priest, he said that there were many just like him and he didn't know of any-
one who could offer him a job.
Aside from the Liberian gardener outside of Dakar, Senegal, this was the first en-
counter I had with a refugee who directly asked me for help. His family's displacement,
his unemployment, and lack of food were all caused by war- a concept so detached from
my life back home. True, we do have refugees who settle in Canada, but I personally knew
none.Inthemedia,refugeeissuesweresporadicallydiscussed.However,standingwiththis
teenager and looking into the pain in his eyes focussed the plight of millions of refugees
around the world. As strange as it may sound, meeting him gave refugees a human dimen-
sion that didn't seem to be present in news reports. I must admit that I hated the position I
found myself in: powerless and unable to help even at a basic human level.
Aftermasswereturned tohavelunchwhichdidn'tgodownverywell. Wechanged
our clothes and went to a small town 30 kilometres from Koundara. The road was incred-
ible.Therewereenormoustreesthatlinedbothsidesoftheroad.Brunotookhismotorbike
while Lydie and I took a truck. I preferred my bike over the truck. Being in a vehicle, a
driver must consider two parallel paths (for each side of the vehicle) as he/she negotiates
the potholes. It is so much easier and quicker on a bicycle- you only need to negotiate one
path. As I sat in the front with Lydie, I was being bounced around insanely to the point
where I was laughing uncontrollably.