The worst travel day ever.
I was already two days behind. I had planned on going home to post on Saturday, but had some spelling bee issues that required me to stay in Natitingou until Sunday, and then my usual taxi driver wasn’t traveling Sunday, so I waited until Monday – which ended up being a good thing because I was able to get a couple more things accomplished and now I am totally ready for the spelling bee! Anyway…
I was planning on leaving at 3pm from Nati with my usual driver. This driver is great – he drives a car that is not a complete trash heap, he doesn’t drink while driving, he doesn’t dink around like a lot of drivers do, doesn’t ask for or expect sexual favors in return for getting me to my destination, actually charges me less than the going rate for that distance, and most importantly, he goes all the way from Nati to my village. Most taxi drivers won’t drive that far and you have to jump from one taxi to another. (Geez… the things that are ‘normal’ to me now are kind of shocking…)
Well, my taxi driver called me this morning to tell me that he had broken down on the way to Nati. Sigh. Well, I just couldn’t stick around Nati another day, I have a lot of work to do at my post, with camp coming up and my latrines in process, and I really do miss my village. So I decided to just go for it and see how it went.
I headed to the designated place on the side of the road south of Nati to catch a taxi to the next big city, Djougou. It was going to be easier to find a taxi in Djougou that would go all the way to my post than it would be in Nati, and significantly faster, so that’s where I went. I put my bags in the car as we waited for a few more people to show up,(they won’t leave until they are full) and I sat down under a mango tree nearby. Suddenly the taxi pulled out and drove off, with my bags on it. I actually had a realization of how patient Africa has gotten me, as two years ago I would have totally freaked out and been a wreck. But now I just sat there, asked the people I was with where he was going, “to get gas”, and hoped he would come back with my bags. I’ve recognized that worrying about it will get me nowhere. And he did come back with my bags. So after about a half hour we crammed into the car, it was probably the size of a Honda civic with four adults in the front and five plus a baby in the back. Typical seating for a taxi, actually.
I’ve never been in a taxi that moved that slowly before. Generally I find myself telling drivers to SLOW DOWN or just praying and holding on for dear life! This time? Definitely not a problem. It was ridiculous. What should take an hour took two and a half. I was very glad that I was changing taxis in Djougou!
Once we got there I found a taxi that was supposedly going to Savalou which would pass us through my village and I wouldn’t have to change taxis again. Great! After sitting and waiting there for about a half an hour he said we were ready and to climb in. This time there was five men in the back seat and three men in the front, plus me. Great. Well, after we all crammed in, he couldn’t get it started, and a couple of the guys had to get out and push it so he could pop the clutch. Then literally thirty seconds after they all crammed back in (while the car was rolling, too…) we ran out of gas. Are you kidding me? So after getting gas, we finally got on the road.
Maybe a half hour later the dash board, which has a big hole in it where the stereo would go, literally starts smoking. Seriously, smoke comes pouring out of this hole in the plastic. So what does he do? Wraps the offending wire in some more plastic. Genius, why didn’t I think of that?
A bit later (timing is getting fuzzy now…) we pull over to drop someone off and he runs into another driver he knows, and decides to shoot the breeze with this guy for a few minutes while we are all sweltering in this tiny car sitting in the African sun. He climbs back in the car and says something to me that I did not understand but I just nodded, I was totally dazed from the heat, dehydration (I don’t enjoy peeing in the bushes so don’t drink much on travel days) and had been listening to a podcast on my mp3 player. Anyway, when we got to Bassilla he told me to get out of the car and he was moving me over to his friends car, who pulled in behind us. Great. This was a bigger taxi, like an old school station wagon. The far back seat which would comfortably hold two adults had three adults, two 8ish year old children, and a baby. The middle seat had five adult men, and the front had three adult men and a woman with a baby. The trunk area wasn’t big, maybe two feet from the back of the back seat to the back window, and in that space there were eight goats. All the luggage was piled on top. Are you kidding me? So I cram myself in and nearly pass out from the smell once inside. The goats had been sitting in the back window for several hours, in the direct sun and their own poo. Plus the rest of the people smell. If I hadn’t been sitting at the window I guarantee I would have barfed. I literally hung my head out the window like a dog for the next hour and a half and still got waves of the foul odor washing over me occasionally, and we must have stopped a dozen times to drop off and pick up people. Add to that the bleating of a goat – it sounds like a tortured child, it’s awful, along with real crying babies…. I was in hell!
We get to Bante, which is only 15k away from my village, and we pull into the taxi station there. Darn it all, the driver tells everyone to get out and I’m on my 4th taxi for the day. At least I got some fresh air. I had to sit around for nearly an hour this time before he was ready to go, but once we were moving, I was feeling better and nearly home! Alas, it was not to be. I got the privilege of actually sitting ON the emergency brake, a spot I generally refuse to sit at but was so ready to be home that I wasn’t willing to put up a fight. We stopped about halfway between Bante and my village (SO CLOSE!) to drop someone off and then the car wouldn’t start. He tried to start it until the battery was dead. (genius). This time the taxi was full of women and he actually didn’t make us get out and push it to pop the clutch, he waved down another taxi and made the guys in that taxi push us!
Well, he did get it started and eight and a half hours after leaving Natitingou I got to my driveway. Then the best thing ever happened – two of my favorite little neighbor girls, I call them my mud hut princesses, came running out to the taxi to greet me, all smiles and yelling my name, it was so beautiful! Everyone then started yelling hello and welcome home and the girls carried my bags to my door. Suddenly, the horrendousness of my travel day all washed away and I was overwhelmed with love for these people, my village, my house, and my time here.
A bit later, after sweeping my house filled with mounds of dust and dead bugs, hauling water, and washing the grime and lingering goat smell off of me, I sat on my porch as the sun was setting and enjoyed watching life happen in the families that live around me. I almost cried, actually, thinking about saying goodbye forever to these people whom I have grown to love. I don’t think I had realized how much they have become a part of me here, my little mud hut princesses, and how even though so much of life here is hard, it has been worth it all.
Love, K
(Written Monday, June 13th)
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