How to Take Roads Less Travelled: West African Public Transport

1. Play dumb. It's easy. You won't often understand what's going on anyway, even if you are fluent in the language. Stand around with your pathetically confused expression until someone has pity on you and takes your bags and gestures you to the front seat. If no one does (for shame!), point to it yourself and batt your eyelashes. No, it's not fair, but you just think about all the hissing and catcalls and grabbing on the street and then decide whether or not you deserve a few toubab perks after that!

2. Beware of the front middle seat. I took this in a tight skirt (flowered one from you, MB) and it was rather too much excitment for me. As they instructed me to get in, I just stared at the non-seat before the gear-shift and I had no idea how this would work. Then a guy grabbed my thigh to pull it over to the driver's side. I slapped him off my bare skin and said I got it! So I sat with one leg pressed up against the driver's and the other awkwardly straddling to the passenger seat which was pretty full already with Booboo and the bony old man who kept diggin his elbow into her. My skirt became extremely short in this position which ended up mattering because the gear shift was IN MY CROTCH. I put a water bottle against my goods to act as a barrier. The driver was annoyed to keep hitting it when he shifted, so he threw it aside at one point. But I insisted. So the whole trip involved my thighs getting groped and my crotch getting knocked. When I'd try to move my knee aside a little to give him space to shift with less contact, it would get wedged under the wheel and prevent all steering. So, groping it was. The keys also fell out a few times (which doesn't stop the car because it's hotwired anyway) and he had to feel blindly around ly entire bare leg to find them on my toes.

Remarkably, the driver was impressively professional about it all. I guess that's a common occupational situation, but for a very muslim country with more headscarves that I'd seen in Senegal and even some full out hijabs, I felt like a complete 'tute. I waited for him to linger on my thighs or do some less-necessary shifting but he actually remained quite focused. Still, I do not ever want to be in that seat again-- at least not without pants!

3.Get ready to have your style--not to mention body-- cramped. What I thought was a cramped sept-place (taxi-sized peugeot with 7 official spots) ride in Senegal becomes at the Very Least a neuf-place in Guinea and beyond. They don't have seat ratio laws, so they pack it in like I had no idea was possible. The driver shares his seat. Three or four adults can sit next to him (one straddling the middle) with at least as many kids. The three seats in the back and way back may hold double their numbers, plus kids on laps/ floors/ partly standing. I have seen up to eight people sitting on the roof and have no doubt that more is not rare. So one taxi= 8 seats (including driver's) = give or take 20 people. It's INSANE. The same applies for any vehicle. In our Guinea pick-up, over 20 passengers had to spill out of the back over and over to walk up the hills all throughout the night because the truck couldn't bear them. Expect elbows/ shoulders/ hips/ etc to dig into you. Expect to wear the scents of multiple people's sweat by the end. Try to avoid armpits.

4.If you feel nauseus... (which is more than likely due to the off-roading, smells, heat...) it is generally expected that you will vomit neatly into your own handbag or lap. It is a good rule.

5. If someone misses a bit and gets some vomit on you or baby pee/poo, don't freak out. They will feel bad and offer you water or a cloth. C'est la vie, and you're not clean anyway.

6. If there is frozen meat or live animals on the roof, be wary of window seats. On long trips, the meat will unfreeze and rain blood down the windows, horror-movie style. It will splatter through an open window, but closing the window makes it stiffling inside. The animals will pee and poo, but at least this is a limited number of times. People in the middle usually escape unscathed.

7. Otherwise, window seats are KEY. Sometimes the wind is strong, but keep it down as a courtesy to the poor unfortunate souls behind you.

8. Window crankers in their entirity are rare, but don't let that stop your ventillation ambitions! The driver will usually have a wrench or some other way of jerry-rigging it down.

9. Bring a scarf or bandana. If you have long hair like me, it will whip visciously into the face of your more-or-mess innocent neighbor in strong winds, if you don't wrap it up. More often, you might need it to wrap around as a dust mask in every season but rainy season. The dust can be an undefiable force-- it has covered my whole face red when I've worn a scarf ghost-sheet style! Also, scarves are handy for wipes, make-do pillos, and sweat rags.

10. Bring also on your lap instead of stored up on roof: water (for drinking and bush-sh*ts), zippered-up valuables (you could be pick-pocketed in your sleep, even though it's rare), book (even if you get car-sick while in motion, you'll want it when you break down), sunblock for your window-side (but try not to sit on this side! calculate ahead of time!), change for peanuts/ fruit/ biscuits/ eyc sold through windows, and needless to say, your sense of humor! So your driver may be an ***, but he'll be a lot easier to bear if you can successfully convince him (and the entire sept/ neuf-place, thank you very much) that YOU are the girl in the ever popular Madonna (singer) sticker. (My story is that's why I'm in Africa-- to tour and promote my cool sticker!)

11. Bed or bruise. On overnight rides, like our one from Kédougou to Labé (24.5 hours, they will pull over for about a three hour nap. This is why everyone else will have brought matts to sleep on. I had only my thin sleeping bag, but we zonked outn EASILY anyway. It was only in the morning did we process the intense discomfort of sleeping almost directly on a bed of rocks. "Princess and the Pointy Pebbles" I muttered as we groaned, shifting around our bruises as goats sniffed our toes.

12. If you get food, share it with everyone around you, and the driver. If there are 20 people behind you, it's okay to just stick to your own row. It's good to get other passengers on your side because you'll be the main target for cheating/ lying/ taking general advantage of. Be more selfish with your water. I shared mine with a woman and her toddler on the way to Guinea, but should have held on to it when the guys over the popped hood asked for it. they ended up dumping all the rest into the engine and then took my bottle to fill with gasoline! Which I stole back in the end, not realizing it was clear "essance." Payback...?

13. Get ready to ride the rage. The worst representatives of every one of these countries are the ones at airports/ garages/ other transit stations. Here, everyone will try to cheat you because they assume all white people have more money than they know what to do with. My blood has never boiled as it has in garages. Examples from this trip:

Over breakfast at a Guinea garage, a particularly crude oaf graced me with his disgusting presence. First, he asked for his present. Nothing new; I asked for mine. He said it was in his room, and continued down this vein more graphically than I may have ever heard, at least in pulaar! I told him our conversation was over-- several times. I ignored him. I asked him to leave. He was loving it. I threw his sunglasses several yards away, impulsively. He still grinned lesdly. I finally got up and expressionlessly grabbed the huge knife the cooks were using to cut bread. The boys scattered and laughed nervously. I sat down with the knife and he decided to leave for good. I explained to Booboo what was happening and breezily said, "First death threat of the day and I haven't even had breakfast yet!"

My second, third, and forth death threats were granted to a driver. He kept demanding that I pay for empty seats when people got out so he wouldn't have to fill them (as if they aren't really already "filled"). He did not stop, even when I scolded him for his rudeness and incorrect assumption that I'm rolling in it. I told him in english that I'd slit his throat, which is a gratifying method of feeling better without the person understanding the horrible thing you just said. When he still didn't stop, I said it again-- this time with CLEAR hand motions. I also acted out choking him from behind. He got better after that...

14. Obey the law, not the law officers. In Senegal, they're usually OK, except when they want extra cash before the holidays and will invent bogus fines and i.d. card checks. (Ask Jared about his arrests°. In Guinea, they suck a lot more. They held our passports for ransom, basically. When a guy who spoke english tried to coax me to pay up, I unleashed the wrath that I can't quite correctly unleash in pulaar. I berated him for breaking the law when it was his primary job to uphold and defend it. I would not ever pay a bribe to him or his evil cohorts because we already bought the visa. He could make ur whole car wait all day (gesture to woman and two infants), but that's still that. I was inwardly quite impressed with my little speech. I guess once the english started, and I realized exactly and correctly how I wanted to respond, I couldn't hold back. He let us go. And asked for our numbers. I wanted to spit on them as we left, especially one who condescendingly taunted our backs, but I settled, thankfully, for a Very Dirty Look.

This happened way more in Cote D'Ivoire, but see the next post for details of that.

Often, the gendarmes are comically ridiculous and you can see so clearly how they just wanted the job so they could wear the uniform. When we first checked into Guinea, by a guy in a "Xena: Warrior Princess" tee-shirt, another passenger came in to get water. A guard stopped him. "Are you military?" Nooo... "Then where did you get those boots?" Sure enough the mere civilian was sporting the same boots as the grandly powerful border control gendarme. "I bought them in the market..." The gendarme was extremely put out. He and his coworkers sported a variety of official-wear themselves-- one just had the hat. Another had flipflops, but most wore the same black boots. The guy looked betrayed, as if he were thinking he could have skipped all the training and long hours and just bought the beautiful boots, the prize and point of his occupation-- at the market! He made quite a fuss and demanded the guy take them off. I guess eventually it blew over, because Mr. Boots later got back into the car, rolling his eyes, adorned still in his boots.

15. Figure out what everyone else is paying for their bags and argue adamently for the same. In Senegal it's around 500 CFA, sometimes less. Guinea: Nothing. Sierra Leone: sporadic-- nothing to a mille. Cote D'Ivoire: Nothing, but that doesn't mean they won't try. I have yet to see about the others.

16. If you can get your hands on any old cassette tape even partially bearable, you might want to bring it to gift one of your drivers. A lot of drivers have just a single tape which they have no problem replaying 30 times. Even if you started out liking Akon or Youssou or Celine, IT GETS OLD.

17. Motos: don't wear tight skirts-- they rip (yours again, MB! but I sewed it back up). Hold on- best not around driver's waist because he'll be in love with you enough as it is already. Find a bar beneath or behind your seat. Careful with your baggage. I had a mosquito net explode like a party cracker out in the middle of the road, which made driving a bit tricky... Don't be afraid to ask your driver to slow down-- they often try to show off for you until you do. That said, moto rides in West Africa are excellent! You can see so much and pass all the cars getting stuck in ditches, and not dye pedelling yourself on your own bike. It's fantastic. The best and most beautiful rides of my life have been on motos in Guinea.

18. Tips from Booboo: "Focus on the scenery and not on your situation. Become a very creative daydreamer. Take comfort in the knowledge that those giant beads of sweat will cool you when the wind blows by. Acceptingly settle into your uncomfortableness with the knowledge that it will end... eventually."

Bon, donc maintenent: BON VOYAGE!