In Shock

Today began as cheery as any other.

Channeling some Anne of Green Gables, I had a very Miss Stacey attitude: Today is a new day, with no mistakes in it. And When one of Ruby-dooby's kindergarten friends was upset as I walked to the library at school, I was able to encourage him with that thought that he could start over fresh and try again.

At the library - well, time at the library is always energizing. The librarian is dear, I discovered new gems on the shelves and was able to accomplish a lot there today, leaving with a real feeling of having finished the job well.

Headed to a friend's house to go fabric shopping, I walked down the main road a little way until an empty bajaj (a three-wheeled vehicle like a moped with a backseat and canopy) came by to pick me up. With his help, I would be there early and he would be a quarter of his way to paying his boss for the day.

We drove down the main road, passing by cars that were stopped in traffic, and I was thinking that for once, I was the person in the bajaj getting there faster, instead of sitting in the truck burning fuel and getting nowhere. This made me even more cheerful as I sped toward a fun, carefree day.

That is where my optimism ended.

Turning left on Afrikana, we motored less than a kilometer when I saw a mass of motorcycles parked all around a small SUV. I knew right away this was the scene of an accident; we've seen plenty of them. Usually from the relative safety of our truck as we pass while the parties involved work out an agreement under the watchful eyes of witnesses.

This accident was different. There were over 20 motorcycles blocking the SUV, and they were also blocking the rest of the road. The SUV was in the oncoming lane, empty. A very large group of spectators was coming from every direction, and as my bajaj driver tried to navigate through the mess, some men stopped us and pulled my driver out. They were telling him they needed the bajaj to transport the injured to the hospital. I had not seen any victims to this point, but I looked to the concrete-lined ditch to my right and saw two men who had presumably been thrown from a motorcycle. All I will say here is that it was obvious they were not wearing helmets. They were still alive but were dying from blood loss and massive head and torso trauma. Some men were trying to help them as they moaned and slowly, blindly tried to get up, but even in America it would have been too late to save them. Here, there was nothing to do but watch. No major head trauma center.

I sat in the bajaj, crying and praying for the injured men. By this time there were well over 100 people crowded around, with me in the bajaj in the middle of the crowd. While I never feared for my safety, I felt it was a good idea to get out of the immediate area as people tend to react emotionally, not rationally, in such a situation. So I prayed for wisdom, climbed out and went to my left, finding a dirt path parallel to the road and walking toward my friend's house. I felt bad to stiff the bajaj driver, but hadn't seen him for several minutes and didn't want to go find him farther into the mob.

As I walked away, I saw several men lead the SUV driver to the side of the road and they began to beat him. Either they also stabbed him or he had injuries from the initial crash. Either way, I felt completely helpless to do anything remotely just.

The drivers who saw the mzungu woman crying as I walked down the road must have thought I was on something.

I am happy to say that the bajaj driver did pick me up a few minutes later, with a look of disgust and a stern admonishment for leaving him without payment. I was grateful for his commitment to getting me to my friend's house and was happy to pay him. He told me that the mob had killed the SUV driver; I don't know if that was accurate or not.

What I do know is that it has been a rough week in Dar. Last week's accidental explosions destroyed many homes and killed and injured many more. This weekend, Len and I had a strange incident involving the police, an automatic rifle and my husband's wise discernment of how to get out of the situation. And this morning's episode leaves me wondering, again, what is justice? What is ethical in this situation? What is wise? And I don't have easy answers.

But there is someone with answers. God and I have been through enough together that I have grown to trust him, even when I don't understand. And I know that he can handle everything I have to tell him about today, which, honestly, isn't as sanitized as what I have just told you. But I keep talking to him, the God who is there.