Gila had wanted to replace her second camera while we were in the Joburg airport, but I am not the calmest traveller. I always envision getting lost, missing connections, going to the wrong place. The time between landing, retrieving luggage and finding the bus terminal was too short for stopping for purchases so Gila, realizing the state I was in agreed to manage with the devices she already had. I did not calm down until I realized that the young woman who was also waiting in the bus terminal area was booked on the same shuttle. The van was on time, we stowed our suitcases in the attached enclosed trailer and settled in for the five hour ride.
My hair was still braided and was looking more and more fly away and disreputable. With five hours on my hands, I decided it was a good time to unbraid my hair. Gila helped a lot especially with the braids at the back, but I undid a great deal of the braids by myself. Each section that was undone became a bushy wild jewfro, making it difficult to access the braids that were still intact. Unfortunately, I was not patient enough and the longer it took, the more frustrated I became and probably tore out more hair than I upbraided with the last ten braids.
The driver stopped for a rest stop after two hours. Everyone left the bus, but with my hair not yet all undone, I was afraid that I was too scary looking to walk out in among the public, so I stayed in the bus, continuing to try to normalize my hair. One of the passengers was a six year old little girl named Alex. She spent the break dancing around in the parking lot while her mother dealt with her one year old sister and smoked. Since the van door was open and I was sitting right at the front, she noticed me after several pirouettes. She then began the conversation with me that would last for the remaining three hours.What are you doing?
My hair was braided, I'm undoing it all.
Why?
I got tired of how it looked.
You look weird that way. Aren't your arms and fingers getting tired of doing that? Why don't you stop.
I won't stop until it is all done.
Why? You talk funny. Why?
You get the idea. Alex and her family was sitting at the back of the bus, but I guess talking to the weird lady with her hands in her hair was more diverting than being with mom. Beside my seat there was a cooler with water for the passengers and Alex moved there to continue her conversation with me. She was fascinated with my accent and spent considerable time looking for words that I pronounced differently. At first she told me my pronunciation was wrong but then agreed that it wasn't wrong, just different. We played many games and discussed a number of different topics, but she always came back with the same request. Say last your way. Say birthday your way. Whenever she hit a word we pronounced the same way, she shook her head and looked for another word I mispronounced.
In between these little tests, we played guess when my birthday is. Without any clues it was a hit and miss procedure. After many tries I finally got the right month and day, November 13. After I told her about the November birthdays in my family, I had to guess her sister's birthday, her mother's birthday. She guessed the date of my birthday. Once we reached the limit of of her knowledge of those dates she sat thinking what else to talk about. I then learned all about her family composition. Her mom, sister and her were on their way to Hoedspruit to visit her father for a week. Her sister had another father and her father had another daughter. She was disappointed with her name because it was a boy's name. Her sister's name was Kenzie. That was a girl's name so it was better. Her other sister was Morgan who was four years old. And also had a girl's name. She asked my name and where I was going. She was determined to keep the exchange going.
She was not in a proper seat and on a number of occasions when she stood up, the driver asked her to return to her seat but she totally ignored him. However, she would sit when I asked her to. I learned that she was in grade one but was taking the week off to visit her father. She was intrigued that I had been a grade one teacher and asked me why I had liked teaching that grade. She seemed surprised when I told her I had lots of fun teaching, singing and playing with six year olds.
All the while I continued trying to return my hair to normalcy. I told her that a bird would love to have that hair to help build a nest, so she started to collect the strands that were falling all over the front of the van and tried to fashion it into a nest. I gave her the beads that had been in my hair and then Gila made an origami bird an a cube out of pages from her magazine. Each time I said something that surprised her or when she was given a little token, her beautiful grey eyes opened even wider as if in disbelief.
She returned to her mother several times to drop off her newly gained treasures, but she was always back on that cooler engaging me in conversation within a few minutes. By the time we had reached our second rest break, I had finished undoing my hair and managed to control the wild bush with a clip, so this time I did get out of the bus to stretch my legs. When we climbed back in, she presented me with a purple petunia she had picked as a gift. I carefully placed it on the console in front of me and continued chatting with my new best friend. Although it was a long ride, in the company of Alex it passed very quickly and before long we reached Hoedspruit. Here she would be met by her father and Gila and I would get on another shuttle that would take us into The Kruger Park and Ezulwini.
When we were preparing to disembark, she noticed that the flower she had given me had wilted. Once off the bus we were anxious to find our bags and next ride and I lost track of my new friend. Then suddenly I felt a big hug around my waist. Here was Alex with a pebble for me. This pebble will last longer than the flower and you can remember me when you look at it she announced. I was almost moved to tears by the affection and somewhat wistfully, I said I hoped that we would meet again before we said good bye. I had missed the panoramic views that we had passed, but I felt that I had gained something special in the hours I spent with Alex. In all honesty, it was a delight to just let go, be myself and let this curious little girl guide our interaction. It made me nostalgic for the years I had spent in Grade 1 where everyone was unafraid to say what they felt when they felt it. We have a lot to learn from six year olds.
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