Last Week Through the Eyes of a Tiny Traveler, Part 1

If my littlest son could write (and if we could translate his Swahili into English) I wonder what he would blog if he could? His eyes are so observant and mind is so sharp that I wouldn't be surprised if he remembers some of this in the future, but here is one father's attempt to capture some of the possible thoughts of a 20-month-old mind from exactly a week ago today:


Today is the big day that Papa Didier tells me he and Papa Wangu (my daddy) and I are going to get on a very big avion (Papa Wangu calls it 'airplane'). It's not as fun as a moto-car but at least I get to ride a moto-car there. The avion does have lots of wheels and I get to see some moto-cars out the window before it starts going real fast and going real high, and you do get some drinks on the avion that are sweeter than what Mama Angelique or Papa Wangu usually lets me have. So as long as I don't have to be on this avion too long, I guess I can be happy.

Papa Didier has been telling me for awhile we were going to ride on a very big avion and go on a very long journey to see my new family in a new place. I don't quite understand what he's saying or why I am going into a new family or where that is or what that means, but having Papa Didier with us on this avion is good because he talks to me better than Papa Wangu and understands what I'm saying better and this helps me feel safe. I'm not quite sure why the taller lighter skinned people don't know very much language and say and do weird things ... they don't seem very smart, but maybe some day they'll learn more. After spending 3 and 1/2 weeks with Papa Wangu with only a few times where I was away from him, he is starting to do a little better, so there is hope at least for this one.

A couple weeks ago I was very frustrated with him and having a hard time when he took me away from my friends and Papa Didier and his family to stay in a small room for many days and to walk around a strange and scary city where no one could understand me or what I wanted. Even the darker-skinned people didn't speak Swahili in that place they call "Kinshasa."

But Papa eventually brought me back to my friends and what I was used to and people who could speak, and I think this Papa is ok even though he's not very smart to talk to. It was then that I began to trust him more and call him Papa Wangu and I like it when he kisses me on the lips and tickles me (nobody every did that for me before). There have been a lot of changes the last 3 and 1/2 weeks but the one thing that hasn't changed is Papa Wangu has been with me every day. I have a different feeling inside than I've had before - I'm still a little scared and frustrated, but not as much as before.

I never knew a Papa before I met Papa Didier and Papa Wangu just a few weeks ago. I had never ridden in a moto-car before that day, and the best thing about this whole process is I have gotten to ride in a moto-car almost every day since meeting them! It's nice to have these nice men around, but the nicest part I think is being in moto-cars with them. Some of the things I said in those first few days that Papa Didier thought was very funny:
- I asked him in our language "So, where are you from?" (I'm not sure why these people think it's so funny when I say things usually only tall people say even though I'm very short)
- The first night there they had me sleep on a strange wooden thing with a pad for the first time, that was off the ground. I couldn't get down off it by myself, so in the morning I shouted, "This is very high. Is there anybody here who can help me get down from this?" (again I'm not sure why they think it's so funny that someone my size can speak in sentences like that)
- Also they had put this weird thing on me on my bottom that wrapped around to the front that got in the way of going kuyamba (what the light skinned people call "number 2" - where I grew up you just go outside and go). So I had to ask that first day "can someone please take off this thing that's wrapped around me so I can go kuyamba"? (I didn't think it was a funny thing to say, I thought it was funny they put that on me)
- One day I came outside Papa Didier's house and saw my favorite thing wasn't there. I said, "Oh no, where's my moto-car?" (I also thought that was a reasonable question and am not sure why he laughed so hard).

Finally the first big avion landed. I was so excited to see a moto-car out the window that I shouted out as loud as I could, "oh, look there's a big moto-car." Many people on the avion were smiling, I guess they were glad to see an avion too. When we got off the avion, we road on a moto-bus which was very fun and so I think I can forgive Papa Wangu for making me sit for so long. I heard one of the ladies on the bus tell Papa Wangu he really should have had me wearing warmer clothes. All the good moms in my country wrap babies in very warm blankets even when it's very hot (I used to get sweaty a lot from it).

Papa Didier tells me we're in Ethiopia. The place where you wait for avions in this country is a lot bigger and nicer than where we came from. I've never seen things like here before. Finally Papa Wangu let me out of the black thing with straps that holds me close to his belly, so I was able to run around at last. I saw some other kids like me here with lighter-skinned parents like my Papa Wangu, and it was fun to finally stand and run around and play "peekabo" and "I see you" (some Papa Wangu words and games).

I don't like to sit on that avion on Papa's lap for a long time when there's no space to move and other people are sitting so close. But I like how Papa gives me little bisquits from Mama Annie when I cry. My goal is to not sleep at all on the avion if I can, even though I'm tired. I think I can stay awake the whole time, and no matter how much Papa wants me to go to sleep I'm not gonna let him. He's always trying to get to sleep at times when I don't want to and I'm not gonna take it this time. Hopefully there's not too much more avion to go. Well, we're getting on another even bigger avion now, so I have to go ... I'll try and write more later.