Things are not the same. In Lesotho, the act of taking public transport is quite easy to engage in and I believe it to be the epitome of organized chaos. All you need to do is inquire where to find the transport to your desired location and someone will kindly point you to another person who will continue to point you in a direction until you have found the vehicle that will take you where you wish to go. You find a seat and you find your patience. To take public or transport, you refer to one or the other but rarely both, there is a necessary delay, a necessary waiting, and a necessary uncertainty.

“When are we leaving?” One might ask.

“We will leave when we are full,” will be the response.

“Do you know when that might be? I am expected somewhere,” you will say trying to plead your case.

“Yes, when we are full.”

There are benefits to waiting or being first. You get a better seat. There are drawbacks to waiting or being first in the form of the heat of the sun. Thankfully, Lesotho is a relatively windy country and a slightly cracked window will offer you some respite from the air hanging between yourself and the others all waiting in the combi-minibus. You are waiting for the others to join you. You are all in it together. There is a meeting set, in a sense, but you simply cannot know when and with whom this meeting will take place. When it finally does everyone will agree that the time has come and together you will move forward. If music has not been playing while you wait then it will begin now. Gospel, Hip Hop, Traditional, or Top 40, likely combined on a heavily scratched CD, will begin pulsing out of a set of speakers. The volume will be unnecessarily high. This does not stop the passengers from interacting. Voices rise above the music. There is little way to dissipate the sound, as the song will deflect off of the closed windows to reach you from an unexpected angle. Basotho do not like to drive with the windows open, no matter the temperature, due to fear of catching cold from the wind and their general discomfort when feeling the rapid air against their skin. This practice has only helped to increase the transmission of tuberculosis throughout the rural and camp town populations. A game I have taken to playing is to gain a seat by the window and crack it before the combi is full. When you begin moving you ensure that your arm is firmly planted in a manner that prevents anyone from reaching across you and quietly closing the window. The game is to see how long you can keep the window open before someone asks you to close it. At that point you change tack and the mission becomes to what degree to you accommodate the request without actually cutting off the source of fresh air.

The combi-minibus is an extended commuter van that typically seats between 9 and 12 passengers. When full they typically carry between 12 and 15 passengers. The windshield may be cracked and the door handles will most likely be inoperable from either the inside or the outside of the vehicle, possibly both simultaneously. You will rely on each other to control the movements in and out of the vehicle. Along the way you will pass and be passed. Uncertain sudden roadside stops will be enacted and feverish honking to signal to potential clients will be engaged in. The driver will skirt around people and livestock that are invariably traveling along or across the same paved pathway that you find yourself on. The rules of the road are far less defined here.

You pay the fair not upon boarding or upon leaving, but somewhere in the middle. If you are in the back you pass your money to the person in front and they will then continue to pass it along. Your change, if there is need for any, will return to you in the same manner.

Together you are sechaba, a community. The group has waited for you as you may have waited for the others. You can only begin once you have all arrived and slowly you will lose members to the side of the road at one point or another as you work together to open and close the door.

Jason Clark

jclark@grofoundation.org

www.twitter.com/GROjasonclark

Posted under Notes from Lesotho