Africa's not for Sissies

Chapter 18: Rich Women and Poor Children

The next morning Jerry and I caught the Baz Bus to Cintsa. Chantelle had started hanging out with her travelling partner again, and so I never got to spend much time with her after our surfing adventure. She did come out to see me off. I wasn't sure if she would. She was travelling in the opposite direction and so I doubted I would ever see her again.

"I guess this is goodbye," I said.

"You have my email. Write me sometime," she said, and then she leaned in as if she was going to kiss me. My heart fluttered and I puckered up, but she went for my cheek and kissed me three times on alternating cheeks. They were hardly even kisses, more like air-kisses.

I recounted my near-death experience to Jerry on the bus ride.

"I thought you didn't believe in God," he said.

"I don't."

"But you prayed and asked for help."

"Yeah, well, I thought I was going to die."

"So you believe in God when you're about to die?"

"I didn't really believe, but I was desperate. When you feel like you have no hope, I guess you'll turn to anything that gives you strength."

"Do you think maybe God answered your prayer?"

I was silent for a moment. I didn't believe this, but more importantly I didn't want to believe this. "Why would He save my life while letting so many others die in the most horrific ways?"

"God works in mysterious ways. God probably saved your life because he has a purpose for you."

His words made my skin tingle. Was this the presence of God? Was He watching over me at this very moment and did He truly have a purpose for my life? I felt like a cliché – all warm and fuzzy inside, but that doesn't really describe the feeling that overcame at that moment. What I really felt was loved. Was there really a creator of the entire universe, and did he love me?

I shook my head. This was magical thinking. This was precisely the kind of thinking that I tried to avoid my whole life.

"I didn't think you were religious." I said.

"I'm not," he said, "and I don't really believe in God either, but I do believe things happen for a reason. I wouldn't discount that prayer, and the fact you survived yesterday. It means something."

My skin tingled again. Damn it Jerry! Stop talking like that! Is this how prophets are able to garner so many followers and get them to drink the poisoned Kool-Aid?

We arrived in Cintsa at dusk. Although the lodge we stayed at advertised itself as a backpackers, and offered dorm style accommodation, it felt more like a resort. The large upstairs dorm even offered a panoramic view of the Wild Coast. Sandy beaches and coastal forests stretched into the distance and nearby, the little town of Cintsa sprouted from the foliage. The homes in town where lit with a warm glow, but the clean streets and sidewalks seemed devoid of life. No people, no cars, nothing. It was almost spooky, and eerily quiet with only the occasional wailing call of a fish eagle or the rustling of branches from the vervet monkeys to break the silence.

Jerry pulled out his guidebook and stretched out on his bunk. "I'm going to chill for a bit."

Having shed my backpack and donned my nicest t-shirt, I made my way downstairs to the bar alone and ordered a beer. For the first time in a long while, I felt more like a tourist than a backpacker. There were many people here who obviously weren't backpackers and I was startled when the prettiest one of them all said hello.