Better Is One Day

Thursday, December 20, 2012

And this is why I need a vacation.

Warning:  Many parts of this story... are...  how should I say it?  Well, not so pretty.  Unless you live in Africa, it is hard to understand why these decisions were made.  Just be forewarned.  

Today started like any other day.  We got up.  We drove to a good friend's house... and made it there without getting lost.  So things were pleasant.  We had a good visit.  The meal today was not one of my favorites here typically but today it was pretty good.  Tonight, we had a get-together for caroling with our co-workers.  So we had to leave our friends house in a decent time.. meaning we couldn't stay around for three hours of tea.  Our friend asks us, "Do you know name of some random place?"  The answer is no.  We ask what it is close to etc... so we get down to the fact that where she wants to go is downtown.  She's a single mother and wanted to go downtown to buy some stuff to try and sell.  Of course, I feel bad.  And I have a hard time saying no.  Like I can't do it for people I know.  So, I open my mouth and out pops, "Sure, no problem..  If we have time, we can bring you back... If we don't, you can catch a taxi."  

Fast forward.  We come to a bridge that we drive over a few times a week.  It's usually chaotic to get on... ie.. 8 lanes of traffic merging into 1.  The lane I happened to pick, of course a transport commun breaks down in front of me.  So I start the process of inching into another lane..  We're now going up the bridge a little bit.  The rule here is as follows:  If your bumper is in front of another bumper, you have the right of way (unless of course that car is bigger- then they do).  So my car was bigger AND my bumper was in front so I start inching over.  Then I hear someone banging on the back of the truck.  I just keep going.  More banging.  I ask my friend and Amanda what's going on... Apparently, I scraped a taxi and part of one of his lights came off.  Now this is laughable because taxis here are pieces of different cars welded together... it's not like upkeep is anyone's concern.  So I look at my national friend here - what should I do?  She says go.  [And also, anytime anyone has ever hit me, I just drive off per Amanda's instruction...  I guess the difference is that they hit me...]   So I get around the broken down truck and have a clear shot up the bridge.  I'm driving pretty fast so my intent is clear.  I would like to get out of here.  So then the taxi driver comes RUNNING after us..  starts hitting the truck, tries to open the doors, and then finally stands in front of the car, in the middle of the road, going up a bridge so I can't go anywhere.  So then my friend starts talking to him.  He's obviously mad and just wants to be paid.  Which normally, I wouldn't do.  Then in my rear view mirror, I see a police walking up.  I'm literally shaking at this point.  My foot can hardly keep the clutch in.  So then my friend, who is not a follower, tells the cop that we were trying to pull over and get out of the way.  That is completely untrue.  This whole time I pretend like I know zero Wolof and when I did speak a word of it my friend would tell me to be quiet.  The taxi driver comes over.  The police walks off with my license.  It's decided by my friend that we will pay the taxi driver about ten dollars.  We tell him to go tell the police man who is now dealing with another car to give my license back because we paid him.  The police officer didn't like this.  We have to sit for another ten minutes before it's decided that we can go. 

But the fun doesn't stop there.

Literally, we go up and over the bridge.  Less than 5 minutes later, my friend decides she doesn't know the way to get where we're going exactly.  So she wants me to pull over and let her ask someone.  So I do.   Now, people do this all the time.  Pull over to ask directions, men use the bathroom, let people on or off....  we think.. no big deal.  Well, I was stopped maybe 10 feet from a red light (I need not get started on the uselessness of red lights here) and another 20 or so feet, there is another police officer.  I get through the red light and he pulls me.  I think nothing of it.  I give him my insurance and visite technique (car papers here).  He wants my drivers license.  I give him that.  Then I notice that he's writing.  I tell Amanda, "He's writing... what could he possibly be writing?"  She says.. I don't know.. the only thing I can think of is the stop back there.  So I look at the paper and I see that my infraction was stopping.  I then put my hand out asking for my DL back..  He's stern and says no...  (Here they keep it and make you pay your ticket at the station and then they give it back... and I know this.. but I'm pretending like I don't).  So then, I look at my friend and tell her to ask him what I did.. even though I know full well...  and this man doesn't know I speak Wolof..   so then he explains to me in English...  Then, the idea flashes through my mind...  I usually can't cry at the drop of a hat.. but I've had a bad couple of hours by this point and I'm frazzled... so I thought to myself I would try it..  and I did.  [I had a break down in language school one time and our language teacher was beside herself that I was upset... so I know people here don't like crying]  I start crying and the police officer looks at me and says, "Why are you crying?"  We tell him I've had a bad day...etc..etc..  Amanda looks at me from the backseat and exclaims, "Lindy!  You have GOT to pull yourself together so we can get outta here!"  Little did she know.  So the police officer then takes back my ticket because he says he doesn't want me to hate his country.  AND he gave me his telephone number in case we have any other problems, we can call him..  So I drive away from all of this out 10 dollars and probably a few years off my life.. but no going to police station!  As I drive away from the second encounter, I look at my friend and tell her in Wolof, "I know the people here don't like crying."  She just started laughing.  So then we finally got her downtown and went home.  

It was quite a ridiculous day.  I'm so happy that in about 30 hours I'm on a plane outta here!  I need some time to recuperate! :)

2 comments:

  1. What a nice farewell! I was reading this & cracking up. So typical. One time, I cried & the officer still took me into the station (& by that I mean made me drive him). All this time I was crying & finally the head guy at the station let me go & gave me his number to call if I ever needed any help.

    Have a great vacation!

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  2. They hate it when people cry hear, but it tends to bring wrath, not compassion. And, I totally get all of your "questionable decisions" because it's just how life rolls here in WA if you don't want to be eaten alive!

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