TAHOUA, NIGER
Got to the bus-yard at 9am for the 9am taxi-brousse and I was surprised to see an actual bus waiting there—not too modern, but more comfortable than the taxi-brousses. The driver said we'd be leaving at 1pm sharp, so don't wander too far. Hung out in a café, drinking nothing—after paying for the bus, I had only $18 in cash and tomorrow begins a 3-day weekend for the banks. For lunch we bought a two-dollar plate of peas. At 12:30 or so, we mounted—and, amazingly, pulled out at 1:15; reassuringly went only 20 feet; left for real at 3pm.
The trip was a frustrating series of false starts and frequent stops. Stops for police checks, meals and, most frequently, whenever the driver had a whim to take a walk for twenty minutes. Then he'd get in, roll ten feet, and stop again.
Near me sat a primitive—almost savage-looking family of a man, his pregnant wife and five children, aged from about one to five. In front were four or five silly teenaged girls who eventually talked to us a little. Shortly into the trip, a massive argument broke out between the driver and some passengers who didn't want him to stop for a new passenger. Amidst all this screaming, someone was loading a pair of live goats onto the roof—things were chaotic for a while.
Got in Niamey, capital of Niger, at 3am, not knowing where to sleep. The five of us stopped at the gate of a house and poked around the backyard to see if we might crash there. Amazingly, we were greeted by a young Englishman who was already crashing there, with permission of the tenant, a Peace Corps volunteer, and he invited us to stay.
PHOTO CREDIT
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