I've been meaning to write this post for a while and I'll paint a picture first. Imagine an old van that may or may not be rusty, has about five rows of seats, is extremely bouncy, and struggles to get up hills. Now imagine that van with about 30 people crammed into it holding bags on their laps, bags of rice shoved under the seats, and the roof piled high with luggage or furniture or sometimes live animals. Now imagine riding this packed van for 10-14 hours depending on how many times it stops. This is how I travel. The taxi-brousse normally leaves 1-4 hours late and stops continuously until it's full. Also, my idea of full is very conservative compared to what the driver thinks is full. The music is normally blasting whatever the driver decides which I've heard popular Malagasy songs, 80's American songs, or sometimes a recording of a church service. The road is bumpy, curvy, and full of potholes. Sometimes people throw up in a bag if they have one but the driver doesn't stop either way. You are so squished that you have to lean forward in order to fit your shoulders. Most of the time, your bag is on your lap but sometimes you're holding another person's child. The van stops once or twice so everyone can go to the bathroom on the side of the road (there are no designated rest stops or port-o-potties). It also stops for about a half hour so that everyone can get something to eat. The hours sometimes go quickly and sometimes drag on. And the craziest part about all of this it now seems normal.
You know you're a PCV when:
-You start complaining about paying more than $2 for a meal
-You use the same jokes over and over
Ex. Me: How old are you?
Random child: 7 years old
Me: Me too!
Gets a laugh every time
No comments:
Post a Comment