Bush Taxis 101

07 Novembre 2007

Picture: eight people crammed into a 1982 Toyota Something, carving down a dirt road, with about a ton of shit strapped into the open trunk of the car and the top of it. And when I say eight adults, I mean it – full-size, no kids here. Four in front, four in back. I was crammed in the front seat, second in from the passenger door in a position that can only be described as a cookie cutter gone awry. My counterpart, next to me, sat half in the driver’s seat, straddling the clutch, which the driver had to operate in what I thought was the most absurdly sexual manner. Really, I use the word “road” lightly. A more accurate description might be a dry, rocky riverbed, that, at times becomes sort of flat, as it meanders its way through the (gorgeous) hilly countryside in the West Province. This car was not made to off-road, and as such, I named it “lutteuse” (or “fighter”) because despite the road conditions, the ton plus weight of passengers and luggage combined, and the fact that the car was older than me, it didn’t tomber en panne the entire way. At one point, I looked over at the speedometer to see how fast we were going. While I was trying to figure out whether the speedometer was in kilometers or miles, I noticed that the needle hadn’t moved at all, even when the car sped up. Right, I thought, why WOULD the speedometer work? The stiff edge of the seat was jammed into the small of my back, making it *extra* comfortable. I was actually quite thrilled when the car pooped out, mid-ascent of a steep hill and we had to get out and walk because the car just couldn’t support the weight of all eight of us and all of our crap, even in first gear.

THIS was the slow passage from Foumban to Malentouen. I say slow because I was crammed as such for more two hours.

This was actually the third leg of a four-stage voyage from Bangangté to Ngambé Tikar, my post. The first leg brought us (my counterpart and me) from Bangangté to Bafoussam, a trip I’ve done before. Nothing new there. The second brought us, again in a minibus-type vehicle through an agence de voyage from Bafoussam to Foumban. This ride was notable because it was the first time I’ve seen a live goat strapped to the roof along with other cargo. Without a cage. Apparently, this is quite common. I’ve heard of 22 live goats being strapped to the roof and having several shoved in the van itself.

The third leg, as I already detailed, was the death ride, which brought us to Malentouen. We were making great time at this point and caught another bush taxi just as it was almost full. A note about taxis and travel agencies: here, when you go to a travel agency and buy a ticket for a set route or when you catch a bush taxi, you have to wait until the vehicle is full before you can leave. There is effectively no schedule. This can have its perks and pitfalls. Today, we managed to catch rides quickly because many were almost full and we (the two of us) brought the taxi to full, so we didn’t have to wait long to leave. However, sometimes the wait can be upwards of 2 or 3 hours. In Malentouen, they were waiting for one more person – however, me and my counterpart made two more. No worries. Just when I didn’t think you could cram more than eight people in a four-person sedan…voila! You can! This time, nine of us piled into a hatchback/station wagon-style car (again, circa 1980-something). Since this one wasn’t as full with luggage, I suggested someone sit in the trunk area (this is the kind of car where you can reach into the “trunk” behind the backseat); my counterpart looked at me like THAT was a crazy idea. Right. But nine people and all their 800 lbs of luggage in a 1980-something vehicle made for four, traveling along bumpy dirt roads – THAT’S fine.

Here is another fine example of Cameroonian crap-piling onto ancient four-door family sedans. I always knew there was a reason I loved those four-door family sedans.

Anyhow, we arrived in great time and collapsed in his living room. Then we went to sit outside, which was nice because the sun was past its hottest and the weather was really pleasant. Magloire told me about his goals and hopes for the work. It seems, from the way he talks about it, that he is extremely motivated, extremely idealistic and full of hope for what we can accomplish. In this sense, we are peas of the same pod. He also seems to be well-known and liked in the community. As we walked to and from his house, he must have stopped no fewer than five times to say hi to people and introduce. I couldn’t be happier to be paired with him for the next two years.

On first blush, my village is gorgeous – much nicer than Bangangté, I think. Granted, I was exhausted and starving from my day of travels, but I was pretty enchanted with it. We’ll see how I feel after I’ve used the latrine…