Holiday greetings to everyone from Paris, Portland, Omaha, Atlanta as well as points in between. Undoubtedly this holiday season, you will find yourself crammed into a full airplane, car, bus, or other form of transportation. Family and strangers abound, luggage is stacked everywhere, and there is barely any room to breathe. You might begin to think that it can’t get any worse, and that at any moment the plane or car will burst at its seams. As I board flight after full flight, I am reminded of a traveling situation that pushed the limits on what I thought was possible and made me realize that even when you think the vehicle is full, well, think again. This memory gives me a bit of solace during the busy holiday travel season, and will hopefully put a smile on your face. Although it happened well before my airline days, when I was a Peace Corps volunteer in West Africa, it is just another example of the crazy shit that happens to me.
A Shitty Taxi Ride:
When we traveled between towns in Benin, we took bush taxis—old run-down Peugeots—that were loaded down with people, furniture, children, goats, chickens, food, and whatever else they could manage to fit in and on them. While I was in training in Lokossa, Benin, I had to make a day trip to the neighboring town of Dogbo to learn more about the Beninese healthcare system. A Peace Corps SUV dropped me off, but I was on my own on the way back and, I must say that the return trip was far less glamorous.
I positioned myself on the side of the road to wait for a passing taxi. The taxi that pulled up was creeping along slowly and was riding just a few inches off the ground, for inside it, was packed fourteen people. Now, this car was built for maybe five people with some minor trunk space—it was a hatchback. Well, the trunk space had been converted into more seats, so now its ‘full’ capacity was eight people. So, how did it happen that this vehicle was already packed with fourteen people? And why was the driver stopping to pick me up? Certainly there was no more room for me. When I looked through the window, the insides of the vehicle were like something from a Dr. Seuss book. On the back seat, there were five people packed like sardines on a seat built for two. On the middle seat, there were six more people. Sure some of these people were children, but there were also a number of Marché Mamas! (women with enormous hips and backsides that sell in the market and could easily fill up a row of seats in this car by themselves) When I looked in the front windows, there were only three people, and the compartment looked much roomier than the tangle of bodies and limbs that I saw in the backseats. The passenger door opened, and despite the little voice in my head that pleaded me to wait for another car, I climbed in and slammed the door shut. The car lurched and off we went.
Also riding on top of the car, was a band of four goats that were tied onto the car amongst the pyramid of sacks and bags, making the normal sized car about fifteen feet tall—thank goodness Benin doesn’t have overpasses. So, we’re driving along and, low and behold, a woman and her three small children flags us down. I remember thinking, hmm, they don’t look that big, but at the same time, we already had fifteen people smooshed into this car and couldn’t possibly fit anyone else, let alone four someone elses. The taxi driver seemed to think otherwise. He pulled over and before I knew it, bam!, our numbers swelled to nineteen! Nineteen people crammed into a vehicle built for eight! There were no seatbelts, and with the huge, gaping rust holes in the bottom of the vehicle, it probably wasn’t very safe. But man, was it an adventure!
So, we start on back down the road, leaning from side to side as the road curves but staying upright, so all is good. After about five minutes, we started up a long steady incline, and the vehicle’s speed began to slow as it slugged up the hill under its considerable weight. It was a very tiny hill, but that car just barely made it to the top, and I must say we all let out a collective sigh when that poor car crested the top of the hill. Pushing it would have been out of the question.
Now, you might say that this journey was sufficient ‘local flavor’ as is, but oh no, it got crazier. Throughout the drive, the taxi driver had been avoiding the copious potholes in the road, and during our descent from the hill, he had to swerve around a couple of big potholes that put our already top-heavy car in jeopardy of toppling over. At the same time, the car began to gain speed as we used gravity to power the vehicle down the hill—the driver actually turned off the car in order to save gas. Saved gas yes, but it also made turning more difficult. So, whilst we were trying to avoid one of the big potholes, the car actually bottomed out, which caused everyone in the car (and everything stacked on top of it) to shift a bit. Up above us, one of the goats lost its perch on the taxi and fell off the side of the car, my side to be exact. It was still tied to the taxi by its feet and was dangling at eye level. You might even say that Mr. Goat and I were practically kissing. I’m freaking out almost as much as the goat, and I’m extremely shocked that no one in the car seems even slightly bothered by this situation except me. When I pointed out the terrorized goat to the taxi driver, he grunted and told me to push the goat’s head out the window and that we would stop in a few minutes. Bad idea. I pushed the goat out of the way, and like a spinning piñata, he flipped around leaving his behind in my face. Goats, I discovered, are like human beings in that they tend to defecate when faced with sheer terror. So, now I have a screaming goat that is shooting forth a torrent of poopy pellets onto my lap, and we’re still driving down the road in an overcrowded taxi.
Now, you might read this and think that it was a horrible experience. I, on the other hand, prefer to look on the experience as unique and interesting, a real life adventure! This kind of thing only happens once in a lifetime, er, hopefully…
Happy Holidays and safe travels! I hope they are full of comfort and joy rather than crowds and poop.
