marvels

Yesterday afternoon I boarded a bus to Beira. As I searched for a seat, I was told that there were open seats in the very back bench of the bus. I don't think I actually wrinkled my nose, but my actions (staring at the guy and not moving to go sit down there) indicated that I was not happy with this option. See, the buses to Beira are actually decently comfortable compared to other buses. They seat four people per bench, three of those seats being what an American would imagine as a normal seat, and the other is a fold down seat in the aisle (not ideal, but not squished.) Since there is no aisle seat in the back, it's just a full bench, and looks like it would be comfortable, except that the bus people stick five people on that bench. I had very bad experiences in my first months (sitting in that back seat with three other women, all with hips as large or larger than my own, and one skinny guy. We honestly just did not fit and someone had to half-stand, and the bus people didn't care at all) so I've earnestly wished to not have to sit there every time I take a bus, and have had the fortune of not having to. And I was determined not to yesterday either. Then, the other passengers indicated that there was one of the nice American-standard normal seats open. Wow, I thought, I wonder why no one else has sat there yet. I arrived at the seat, and my first thought was, 'Are those all HER own?" My seatmate was a young woman, possibly my age, and there were four heads poking up from her lap. It's normal for a child, or maybe two, to sit on an adults lap so they don't have to pay for a seat, but this lady had four of her children. It isn't that abnormal for a woman to have four children, but what was incredible was that all five of them were such a small space. She was breastfeeding a baby, two preschool age kids were on her lap as well, happily sucking down tangerines, and there was one head poking up from a body that was sitting on the floor. The children were wearing clothes that had probably been washed, but were still very dusty and dirty looking. I wondered, if this was the answer to my question. I was happy for the seat, I much prefer squirmy children to my face in a large armpit (which is what happens if you sit on the back bench). So, I settled in and opened my book. The children, I speculated, had never been on a bus before. They marveled as it started up and started moving.

I marvel at their marveling.

They (the two preschool age kids, the baby was too little and the other one was on the floor and couldn't see out the window) pointed out every car we passed, and especially squealed at the semi-trucks. After some time, I offered to hold one of the children. I admit, and I am embarrassed to say, that at first I was reluctant because I was wary of being peed on. But my conscience got the best of me, and soon the little girl, probably 3 years old, was on my lap. She looked a bit uncomfortable with this fact, reached out and touched her mother's arm, and promptly fell asleep. She slept the next two hours and for the last half an hour, still rested heavily in my arms.

I marvel at how children fall asleep in moving vehicles and when they are unsure of their circumstances.

I also marvel at the feeling of a sleeping child in my lap.

I seriously marvel at the scribblings of children. I really don't know how to put in words how happy it makes me.

I marvel at scribblings because it means works of art like this one might come out someday. I marvel at the paintings of Jean Martin (thank you BFF)

I marvel at the fact that my parents had eight children. I wonder if my mother ever took four children on public transport and sat in only one seat with all of them... Even if she didn't, I think taking all eight of us on a roadtrip to western Montana in a station wagon was just as brave of them, if not even more so. It certainly prepared me for bus trips in Mozambique.