Jourdain, Cecilia and I needed to make a day trip recently to Libreville (the capital city) to renew our passports. Although we transfer through Libreville airport four times a year to get from
Manji island (where Port-
Gentil is located) to Paris and back, we had never actually seen any of the city itself.
The bumpy plane ride to Libreville was nothing new, but excitement was still in the air for the young pair who got to skip school for our outing! (I should add here that our poor little 8-month-old Noah is going to have to wait for his US citizenship, as this trip is just a bit too, um, adventurous for me to want to take him at this point.)
As usual, the kids scooted right up behind the pilots to watch them magically work those levers and dials as they do. I myself prefer to pretend none of this is happening while I look the other way, pray for no turbulence, and simply hold my breath until we land 40 minutes later... Of course I do this all while keeping my "mom is calm and in control of the situation" face.
As we took off over the ocean towards Libreville our plane headed directly over our private weekend-getaway island, which is the long fish-shaped vegetation surrounded by white sand to the right in the picture. Towards the bottom of the island, on the right, you'll notice a square of sand with a small black dot set into it. That's our cabana and the clearing around it. The black water between the island and the mainland is a deep river that winds around and heads inland just out of the picture.
This was our first day-time approach to Libreville, and it was only then that I realized the city is not quite the thriving metropolis I had always assumed it was.
Once in town though, and on our way to the embassy, I understood the city was at least big enough for a billboard boasting the past 40 years of dedicated public service of President-for-life Omar Bongo.
The city, it seemed, was even big enough for a second billboard
advertising the "40 years of economic and political decisions" of President Bongo, resulting --naturally-- in "peace and stability".
As our taxi drove us on to the embassy I couldn't miss the next billboard explaining that Bongo and his wife are helping in the fight against HIV AIDS.
Most importantly though I discovered that Libreville is so thick with propaganda that if I kept on taking pictures of it all I might not have much memory left in my camera for the rest of the day's events.
The three of us needed new passport pictures, so we stopped en route at a crowded photography shop. Once inside I turned to see Cecilia next to me holding her breath for so long that I thought she might pass out. "How can you
STAAAAAAAAAAND it, Mama???? Can't you
SMELLLLLLLLLLL how much it stinks in here?" I thanked God no one in the shop understood English and quickly told her not everyone has a shower in Libreville.
At the US Embassy things smelled a bit fresher, but as we were the only ones in the room there was much less entertainment to keep the kids occupied.
We put our coloring books to good use...
and made up for the boredom with a quick pizza and swim before catching our bumpy little flight back to Port-
Gentil.
Last week Jourdain's school organized a fair that involved his being on stage dancing around with the flag of his choice on his back. I arrived at the show to discover he had chosen, drawn and colored in the flag of --- Panama. When I asked him curiously what made him pick that particular country, he said "Look at it Mama! Can't you see Panama is America! It's the American flag!!" Oh boy.
Looks like I've got my work cut out for me.
