Riding in taxi-brousses continues to be quite the experience. I think I already described taxi-broussing, but here’s a refresher: a taxi-brousse is the public transport here, usually a mini-bus or van. They pack them as full as possible. They are generally set up in rows where there is a double seat on each side of a middle aisle. In the U.S. you would probably put 4 people in each row and leave the middle clear, even though there is a small fold-out seat there. Here you definitely have 5 people across each row, but it’s not uncommon to pack in 6 or have a few children on laps here and there. The passenger’s seat up front can hold two to three people too, and then as the brousse continues to pick people up along the way there are often people standing on the back bumper, hanging on outside of the vehicle as well. According to my guidebook, taxi-brousses in my region of Madagascar are some of the most packed, and I don’t doubt it. My village is on the road between Andapa and Sambava, so I have to flag down passing brousses when I want to leave. If I don’t get up at the crack of dawn to catch one of the first vehicles passing my site then they are all overstuffed with people hanging out the back and it can take a couple hours before I find a spot. (I will snap a few photos some time before I leave this country because you really need to see a full taxi-brousse to believe it.)
My most recent brousse ride back to site was quite the event. I was sitting up front at first, but we stopped to pick up a woman who insisted that she had reserved the front seat. The other man up front refused to move. I was ready to get going and when I turned around the back of the brousse actually wasn’t overstuffed (this should have been a red flag) so I agreed to move to the back. We proceeded to pick up more people so that an extra person was standing in what little space was left in each row! There was a woman standing next to me holding a small baby, but of course when I tried holding him he just cried in terror at the sight of my terrifying white face. The brousse was so stuffed that the driver let people off, went through the police barricades where they check the brousse’s papers and make sure they are not overly cramped/carrying illegal items, then waited for the people to catch up. Twice. And they still had to bribe the police.
Another exciting aspect of taxi-broussing on some routes is that there are certain stops where vendors run up and swarm the brousse selling snacks. I just got back from a trip to Antalaha with my friend, another volunteer Mallory. The route to Antalaha has one stop with especially aggressive vendors selling hard-boiled eggs, green coconuts, green papaya salad, coconut cookies, samosas, and hand-made baskets. The vendors attack the car like hungry piranhas and shove dishes of food towards the windows. This time Mallory decided she would get a green coconut. In case you have never had one, next time you get a chance you should buy one because the coconut water inside is delicious! But, you should be sure to have them open it for you. (Someone gave me a green coconut last week and I literally spent half the morning in my house wrestling it open. The natives have super sharp machetes that get the job done in minutes.) Well, Mallory bought her coconut and drank all the delicious juice. Then she wanted to get at the equally delicious fleshy insides. Unfortunately the drinking hole in the coconut was not quite big enough to get into, nor did we have a spoon handy. But like any resourceful PCV, Mallory widened the coconut hole and searched her belongings for a makeshift tool. After a couple hilarious failed attempts which entertained not only us but all the other passengers, she settled on the cap of a water bottle. Delicious success!
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