Transport
Getting around is never easy here. Which is alright for me in some ways, because I don't really mind sticking around in my village (I like it there, and I like my friends there). But when it really is necessary, travel is a HUGE pain in the ass (literally).
Yesterday, for example, I knew I needed to go into Garoua to hit up the bank and do some work stuff. Since Friday is market day in my village, I knew there would be bush taxis leaving the village around the early afternoon. They're not really cars, they're those toyota mini bus things and they drive between villages transporting people, luggage, sacks of corn, goats and sheep (on the roof), and chickens (under the seat). They're the cheapest way to get around between villages, but hardly the most comfortable. If you imagine those cars to have the first row of seats with the driver, and then four rows behind him, also imagine there to be 22 passengers in the car (not including babies/children). Four people to a row, with an extra row of people added sitting in the opposite direction directly behind the driver. Plus babies on laps, and a lingering smell of gasoline make for a first-class experience.
So I arrived at the market, finding that one of the bush taxis was not even starting to be filled, but there was a dude with a car that was leaving in my direction a little bit sooner. So I decided I'd rather leave sooner than later, and I took the car. 45 minutes later he decided that the car was sufficiently full and that he was ready to leave (sufficiently full = 4 people plus an adorable baby in the back row, one of them being me, plus two people in the front passenger seat plus the driver). FULL. After only 15 minutes I was afraid that I would lose a leg by the end of the journey due to a lack of blood circulation, so I kept on shifting however I could. But it was still pretty numb.
Less than 200 meters after leaving the market, we pull over on the corner with no explanation, and the girl in the front seat disappears. I ask no questions (I've learned not to anymore), and she comes back after 10 minutes with her forgotten wallet. After 20 minutes more of driving, we stop in the next village over, another lady gets out onto a motorcycle, and disappears for 10 minutes. She reappears with 3 more sacks of luggage that we pile into the trunk. And we continue. I was definitely sweaty, and the dust was getting all over my face and my hair (it hasn't rained since October, so the dust is just lingering in the air like fog... I didn't see the sun at all yesterday). But the adorable baby made it kind of worth it (he was super cute, and they do this thing here where they put blue eyeliner on in these really cool shapes and stuff, so he was even cuter after that).
How do I avoid this discomfort, you ask? Other options include taking a motorcycle, or riding in the back of a pickup or huge cargo truck (usually sitting on top of a shitload of onions or corn, and next to the sheep and goats instead. I choose the motorcycle. It's a little bit pricier, and kinda hurts my butt, but I guess not as much as those damn cars do. But there's always a little bit of price-bargaining involved in the moto selection, which makes for a stressful pre-voyage 10 minutes. In any case, I'm gonna pull it together burn a bit more cash, and take a motorcycle home this afternoon. Wish me bon voyage and keep in touch.
Yesterday, for example, I knew I needed to go into Garoua to hit up the bank and do some work stuff. Since Friday is market day in my village, I knew there would be bush taxis leaving the village around the early afternoon. They're not really cars, they're those toyota mini bus things and they drive between villages transporting people, luggage, sacks of corn, goats and sheep (on the roof), and chickens (under the seat). They're the cheapest way to get around between villages, but hardly the most comfortable. If you imagine those cars to have the first row of seats with the driver, and then four rows behind him, also imagine there to be 22 passengers in the car (not including babies/children). Four people to a row, with an extra row of people added sitting in the opposite direction directly behind the driver. Plus babies on laps, and a lingering smell of gasoline make for a first-class experience.
So I arrived at the market, finding that one of the bush taxis was not even starting to be filled, but there was a dude with a car that was leaving in my direction a little bit sooner. So I decided I'd rather leave sooner than later, and I took the car. 45 minutes later he decided that the car was sufficiently full and that he was ready to leave (sufficiently full = 4 people plus an adorable baby in the back row, one of them being me, plus two people in the front passenger seat plus the driver). FULL. After only 15 minutes I was afraid that I would lose a leg by the end of the journey due to a lack of blood circulation, so I kept on shifting however I could. But it was still pretty numb.
Less than 200 meters after leaving the market, we pull over on the corner with no explanation, and the girl in the front seat disappears. I ask no questions (I've learned not to anymore), and she comes back after 10 minutes with her forgotten wallet. After 20 minutes more of driving, we stop in the next village over, another lady gets out onto a motorcycle, and disappears for 10 minutes. She reappears with 3 more sacks of luggage that we pile into the trunk. And we continue. I was definitely sweaty, and the dust was getting all over my face and my hair (it hasn't rained since October, so the dust is just lingering in the air like fog... I didn't see the sun at all yesterday). But the adorable baby made it kind of worth it (he was super cute, and they do this thing here where they put blue eyeliner on in these really cool shapes and stuff, so he was even cuter after that).
How do I avoid this discomfort, you ask? Other options include taking a motorcycle, or riding in the back of a pickup or huge cargo truck (usually sitting on top of a shitload of onions or corn, and next to the sheep and goats instead. I choose the motorcycle. It's a little bit pricier, and kinda hurts my butt, but I guess not as much as those damn cars do. But there's always a little bit of price-bargaining involved in the moto selection, which makes for a stressful pre-voyage 10 minutes. In any case, I'm gonna pull it together burn a bit more cash, and take a motorcycle home this afternoon. Wish me bon voyage and keep in touch.
posted by Ryan @ 6:08 AM
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