Tuesday, August 3, 2010

The mini bus experience

For Zambia and, from what I can tell, most of southern Africa, people's main mode of transportation is by mini bus. The mini bus is one of the first things I noticed when I arrived in Zambia. On my drive from the airport to my first lodgings, I noticed these blue and white vans driving around that were absolutely crammed with people and looked like they were being held together by twine. I thought to myself, please God let me never have to ride in one of those. Little did I know that I would eventually come to rely on the mini bus for my transportation around Kitwe.

The mini bus is Africa's version of a city bus system. Now, as I said in an earlier blog post all of the mini buses are privately owned and they do not run on a schedule nor are there established routes. All mini buses will pick people up along the road and eventually end up in town. From there, if your final destination was not town, you have to navigate the hectic streets and ask where the pickup spot is to your next location.

When I need to go into town, I head off on foot toward the nearest bus stop which is about half a mile away. The journey into town takes at least 40 minutes so some advanced planning is required. There are some "bus stops"=intersections at which the bus will stop but they are not marked so you just have to know where they are. I will walk to the first bus stop, and if there is not a bus there I will continue to walk toward the next bus stop which is another quarter mile away. Usually along this walk I will either be picked up on the side of the road by a friend, a mini bus or a taxi which will take me and three strangers to town for the price of the bus fair (2,500 Kwacha, about 50 cents).

Now once on the minibus, it is very important to find a seat next to the window. This is for both temperature and odor reasons. The seats are all falling apart, usually not upholstered, and sometimes you're sitting on a footstool. "Protected by the blood of Jesus" or some other spiritually distinguishing mark is plastered on the back window in brightly colored lettering. There are two men operating the bus, the driver and the conductor. The driver drives, and the conductor hangs out the window yelling and waving at people to see if they need a ride. The driver will slowly drive toward town and stop to wait at intersections (sometimes for a very long time) until the bus is full. Once all 20 people (not including babies and children) are crammed into a bus the size of a mini van, the conductor starts collecting money from people. Most people do not have a problem with this, but since my skin looks different they automatically assume I'm both rich and ignorant. If I give them a larger bill than is needed they will usually not give me my change until I ask for it. When they do give change, they will not give me enough. I have to keep asking until I get the proper amount of money back.

Usually one of three things happens while I'm on the bus. The most common scenario and my favorite is when everyone just leaves me alone. Scenario 2 is when people start talking with me, turn around to stare at me, kids touch my hair, etc. I'll get the usual questions, where are you from, why are you here, how long have you been here, are you married, why not, don't you want to get married, aren't you too old to be single, do you want to marry me and take me back to the USA with you? Ugh. Congratulations, you're the 200th man to ask me that, you've just won a trip to the USA!!!!!! Scenario 3 is when there is some type of incident. This makes for a horrible mini bus trip. Usually this scenario starts when the conductor starts talking about me in Bemba, and laughing at me. Most people are very nice and will not laugh with him but there are always a couple that think it's hilarious that a muzungu is riding on the bus and that I don't know what they're saying. Sometimes I'll make some smart remark about the conductor and anyone on the bus that speaks English will laugh at him. That usually shuts him up. If no one speaks English or no one laughs I just sit and look out the window and ignore them. Thankfully this is happening less and less since the conductors are getting used to having me on their bus, and for the most part I've become a normal passenger.

So, 20 minutes (sometimes excruciating minutes) later we arrive in town and the driver will pull into the "station" and let the passengers out. The "station" is the streets of a few city blocks lined with hundreds of these blue and white buses. Its absolute madness, I'm amazed that anyone ends up on the right bus.

So, when my shopping is done I'll head back to the station and find the bus to Mpelembe. There is a designated area that the buses are headed toward Mpelembe. Half of the buses at this station will go to Mpelembe, the other half go to the Chipata compound (high density, low imcone area). I made the mistake once of getting on this bus. From then on out I was very sure to ask the passengers (not the conductor since he will tell me yes either way) if the bus is going to Mpelembe to be sure to get a straight answer. So then you sit on the bus in the station until it has filled up. While waiting, sometimes the conductor will shout advertisements to those passing, "don't miss out, this is your chance to ride the mini bus with a muzungu". I've developed fairly thick skin but this type of thing really gets to me. Anyway, off we go, sometimes 2 minutes, sometimes 20 later. When someone needs to be let off, he knocks on the bus frame to signal it's their stop. Then either everyone between him and the door have to get out to let him pass or he steps awkwardly over their knees. It's really quite the experience.

Sometimes there are live chickens on the bus, sometimes the person next to you will hand you their child to sit on your lap so they don't have to pay the child's fare, sometimes a hub cap will fall off and the bus stops while the conductor runs down the road to collect it, sometimes the tire goes flat and all the passengers wait outside until it is fixed, sometimes the bus just plain breaks down and you have to find another way home.

Never a dull moment I tell you. I find it all very frustrating but the locals have a different view. My friend Mulenga told me that most people consider it entertaining. She's been to the UK and doesn't know if she would enjoy living there, in a world where everything works so flawlessly. She asks me, where's the entertainment in that? What would you have to talk and laugh about with the family once you got home? At first I was too American minded to appreciate this bit of wisdom. My goal is to get to the destination as efficiently and pleasantly as possible and any deviation to the plan is unacceptable. Then it hit me, what's the difference between pulling over to fetch a hub cap and sitting in traffic behind an accident on the 405? I guess everywhere has their own version of a traffic jam, the difference is that some end in road rage while others end in a good laugh over nshima.

I don't have many good pictures. Mini bus drivers scare me so I try not to upset them by taking their photo :)


A mini bus piled high with luggage on a long distance route














People loading into a bus at the markets.















Literally held together by twine

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