An Unplanned Cross-Country Trip

I’m currently in Ouaga for training, TOT (training of trainers). It’s a weeklong training that prepares us volunteers along with the rest of the Peace Corps staff to become trainers for the new trainees coming in. This is really exciting because we look forward to new groups of trainees who arrive only 2 times per year. This time, being a seasoned and experienced volunteer, I am a trainer for the new trainees. Their training will be different from ours because the education program has completely changed and been restructured (for the better, in my opinion) since last year. Due to this, their stage is longer than ours was, and they go through a lot of significant training that I never had, but wish I did. We are also welcoming a brand new sector this time, an Agriculture program. But, this is neither here nor there. What I really want to tell you about is my unplanned and unwanted tour of Burkina.

Normally, my trip from my site to the capital is about 7 hours, in an air conditioned bus (NOT a bush taxi… thank god), and on a paved road (a luxury most volunteers do not have). So, all in all, my trip, although rather long, is much better than a lot of other peoples. Well, 3 days before I’m supposed to be in Ouaga, a PC staff calls me and tells me that due to security reasons, I cannot travel my normal route and am forced to find a new one. I, of course, have no clue to a secondary route, so I’m frantically calling other volunteers to try to find one. Unfortunately, there was only one option. A route that took me on a cross country trip, which not only costed an arm and a leg, took 3 days, but was entirely bush taxis. I was rushing around trying to get my things together because I realized I had to leave ASAP or I wouldn’t be there in time. All my clothes were hanging on the line to try. Thank god it’s a million degrees here and they dry in about an hour ha. And for all of you that know me, you know that I am not a light packer, but due to the unusual circumstances surrounding this trip, I had no other option. I know my Dad would be proud of the fact that I only brought one bookbag and a purse for 10 days away.

My first leg of the trip wasn’t too bad. It was only 2 hours on a bush taxi. But, I was squished between a big woman and crying baby. I couldn’t move an inch, so in true west African spirit, they fit in 5 more people. Now, I’m holding the crying baby while the mom is holding the taxi door close, and a brown liquid is dripping on me from the ceiling. Super. Thank god it was only 2 hours ha.

The next part of my trip was significantly longer. I woke up at 5:30 because I had no clue where the taxi left from or what time, so I figure it would be better for me to get there earlier. Thankfully, it was easier than I thought. I arrived at the taxi station, and a man says, “Hey! White person, where are you going?” I tell him, and he tells his apprentice to take my bag and puts in on a taxi and voila… I have a taxi. Easy as that. Now, I just have to wait. Normally, in all my taxi experiences, they do not leave the station unless the car is completely full. Then, they will add 5 more people, a goat, some chickens, and a man hops on the roof. This could take 30 minutes or 5 hours. You never know. I ask the driver when he’s leaving and he says, “Tout suite!” (Very soon). I ask if he actually means very soon, or very soon after the car is full. He assures me that no, we will be leaving very soon. I’m doubtful. Then 30 minutes later, he says, “Hey! White person, get in the car, we’re leaving.” So, I head over, and hop in and to my surprise, I’m the only person in the car. And, not to my surprise, the driver was not the owner of the car, but his 15 year old apprentice. We leave the station and pull over about 3 minutes later. I ask what’s going on, and, of course, they don’t speak French, so I have no clue. And I’m still the only person in the taxi. Eventually, the owner comes, and we head off… to the gas station. “Hey! White person, we need you to pay so we can get gas.” I hand over my fare, he fills up an empty bucket with gas so we don’t have to stop along the road, and finally, we’re off for real. About 2 hours later, we pull over in a town, and the taxi driver hops out of my taxi, and without saying a word, hops in another passing taxi going in the opposite direction. What the heck?! I swear, sometimes, I do not understand Burkina Faso and the people here. How can you just leave me, the taxi and the apprentice on the side of the road without saying anything?? I sit and wait and wait, and then I go to pee (which ended up being very complicated because, again, no one spoke French and so they couldn’t understand what I wanted. It ended up being a very embarrassing pantomime with me squatting near the ground pretending to pee.) An hour and a half later, the driver saunters over ( don’t worry… he just had to eat), hops in and again, we’re off. For 20 minutes until we have to stop again. This time, the driver and the apprentice hop out and TAKE A NAP! I’m not kidding, they took a nap on the side of the road for 30 minutes! Finally, after them waking up due to me “gently” throwing stones at them to wake them, they get in and we continue. When, of course, 30 minutes later, we have to stop again to pick up some people. This took about 20 minutes because it took 5 men to heave a bag of rotted meat onto the roof of the taxi. I can only assume, they were planning on selling this meat in the city. In a country where deodorant doesn’t exist and latrines do, bad odors don’t faze me that often, but holy shit, that rotting meat… I honestly thought I was going to throw up in the taxi. And, to make matters worse, they were heaving the bag up on my side of the car, so the blood and random pieces were dripping down my window, where they dried instantly due to the scorching heat and I was forced to look at them for the rest of the trip. Again, we’re off, and this time, only 7 hours since leaving my original destination, we finally make it there. A fellow volunteer met me at the station and the first thing he said to me was, “Why did your taxi take so long?”

The next day, I wake up really early and start on my third and final leg of the journey. This, thank god, was a bus and a rather long trip, which I was thankful for because that means the bus will be air conditioned. HA! Once again, I was wrong. The volunteer warns me that this transport company is horrible and to be ready. So, I get there really early and buy my ticket. The bus was supposed to leave at 8, and, of course, the bus arrived at 8:20 full of people. I head over and wait for the people to get off the bus, which is when I realize that the people on my bus have already forced themselves onto the bus. They, literally, push people out of the way to get on the bus. Despite being the first person there, I was one of the last people to make it on the bus. There are no assigned seats, so if you’re the last person on the bus, you will have to stand for the entire 6 hour bus ride. In my case, I was seated between two very large and loud African women who insisted on getting off the bus at every single stop to buy a snack to eat on the bus, one of which was fried chicken. You know, an easy, on-the-go snack. So, I’m trying my best to sleep so I can pass the time easier. Despite it being so hot you want to die, the trip went smoothly with no big hiccups and I made it to Ouaga on time.

After that really long trip, I decided that I deserved to eat well, and so, this week while being here, I’ve been splurging… eating anything with cheese and chocolate ha. Unfortunately, my week is about over and my wallet is significantly smaller, and now I have to head back to site.