The Powerful Play Goes On...

Americans complain of heavy traffic jams, long daily commutes, roadwork that creates bottlenecks on highways, speed limits, and getting pulled over for breaking various traffic laws. They complain of emission tests, license renewals, car seat regulations, being required to wear seatbelts, helmet laws, bike lanes, and long lines at the DMV. Busses or trains a few minutes late irk passengers who take public transport. Too many families have been negatively affected by the consequences of drunk drinking or driving under the influence. There are many unenthusiastic observations about our systems of transportation that we can make. But I know I’m incredible grateful for it, much more so now.

Difficulties with travel in Togo are of a different nature. Problems considered to be a major pain in America are trivial compared to the all the possible obstacles and negative conditions Togolese face. Here is a quick overview of the National Highway system here. There is the National road from Lomé at the bottom of the country that goes all the way to Dapaong up north near Burkina Faso. Many subsidiary roads branch off east and west from it, toward the major towns near Benin and Ghana respectively. Now, there are several specific interdictions for volunteers: 1) You must be in a 4 wheel vehicle on the National Route, no motos or bikes. 2) It’s forbidden to ride motos in Lomé. 3) Never ride bicycles or motos without your helmets. If you’re caught failing to follow any of the rules above, it’s immediate administrative separation from the Peace Corps. Generally, trips that would take an hour in the US usually take three times as long or longer here. I’ll take you through a typical experience.

It’s always advised to start out early, usually between 6-730 AM, when the heat is more bearable. The majority of the time, you have two choices. One can take a more expensive moto taxi and begin their voyage immediately. It’s easy to flag a ZED man, as they are known here, from wherever you are. It’s not even necessary to go to a gare routiere (station). Or, you can take a less expensive (usually about half the price) bush taxi, but not know exactly at what time you’ll depart. Usually, you will need to go to the station and purchase a ticket. However, it’s also possible to stop one on a main road. Many are just driving around looking to fill last spots in their vehicles before they actually leave the city or town they’re in. Prices are generally fixed if you purchase a ticket from a station for a bush taxi. Each time you take a moto, however, you must go through the (more often than not, unpleasant) process of arguing the price. Discutering (Haggling) can be fun if you’re naturally an argumentative person and know about how much your trip should cost. It’s not difficult to get a reasonable price when there are many zeds around too. It’s easy to walk away and find another if one guy is giving you the business. (In the beginning, zed men tried to cheat me often, but once they found out I was a knowledgeable local, things got a lot easier.) But when you are stuck in a place less familiar to you arguing the price with the one zed that is in sight, it’s less enjoyable. So, you’ve bought your ticket for a bush taxi. Now, you wait. And you wait some more. Has your vehicle reached ‘clown car’ status yet? No? Keep waiting. Once the driver of the taxi is satisfied that no more people, luggage, and livestock can be crammed in and on top of the vehicle, it’s time to go! Now, traveling as a ‘tall person’ in Togo is genuinely miserable. You are shoulder to shoulder with men, women, and children. You are shoulder to wing, haunch, and hoof with sheep, goats, and chickens. People are sitting on each other’s laps. No seatbelts needed (not that the vehicle even has them); you’re not going anywhere. And you’re like this for hours on end. Got a cramp? Leg falling asleep? Need to pee? Need to vomit? That’s too bad. When you do get a small rest break, try extricating yourself from the back of a vehicle that seats 12 but contains 25 people. It’s like crowd surfing. You can’t read. Crying babies. Animal sounds. Animal feces. All you can really do is laugh at the experience. It doesn’t hurt to have another volunteer with you to commiserate with either.

Now, we’re on the road. There are posted speed limits and obligatory stops every so often. But these are more of what you call guidelines. Nothing is enforced. There aren’t any police cars that I know of on patrol. Driver’s licenses are compulsory but I have yet to see one. There aren’t any yellow or white lines delineating lanes. Motos and bush taxis pass each other, warning one another of their presence by endless use of their car horn. It can sometimes be a dangerous form of an indian run, where the back car is always trying to work its way to the front. I’ve seen oncoming motos forced off the road because of passing taxis. Women carry their children in ‘booboos’ on their back while they balance a large container of rice on their head on with two hands , while on a moto! Imagine if their pagne wrap comes loose during the ride… bye-bye baby. It’s scary to me, but normal to the Togolese. The majority of roads have significant potholes and bumps that necessitate slower speeds. Sometimes, they’re so regular that the driver is swerving back and forth like a snake to avoid them all. And then there are the dirt roads. You hope the windshield wipers work. Visibility becomes limited because of all the dust kicked up in the air.

Road rage is a thing here too. Friends have told me stories of altercations between bush taxi drivers and motorcyclers. Many bush taxi drivers have been known to keep rawhide whips with them in their vehicle. And in one story, a driver attacked a moto man who allegedly cut him off, then proceeded to call him ‘fou’ and ‘chien’ (crazy, dog). Togolese French is of course very different from France French. From what I’m told, vocabulary seems to be much more limited. But I know that these are definitely two of the worst curses you can sling at someone else.

Traveling at night comes with a whole other set of problems. Many moto taxis do not have functioning lights. But even more impaired are the drivers; it’s not uncommon to find drunk drivers offering you rides. It really is necessary to pay close attention to the state of the person you’re entrusting your life to. Also, it’s much more difficult to spot livestock wandering on the road during the night. Even if you plan out your voyage really well, so many factors are out of your control. A lot of luck is involved. Peace Corps offers a free transportation service once a month from Lomé to Dapaong and back via the National Road. Known as the Lomé limo, it’s a great alternative to a crowded, stuffy, unreliable, bush taxi that makes frequent stops to pick up and drop off passengers. I’ll be using it for the first time this month to travel up to Dapaong to celebrate Christmas with my fellow PCV’s.

All this being said, I have to say I enjoy the liberating feeling riding motos here offers. I’d never ridden one in my life until coming to Togo. The wind on your face, not being laden down with baggage, winding your way in and out of traffic… It’s fun. And the badass feeling of carrying a moto helmet around is pretty cool too, I suppose. And it’s not a bad way to see the country either. You can get great views when you’re at high elevations in the Plateau and Kara regions. I would be lying if I said I didn’t want to look into getting a moto for myself while I’m still young and want to explore more of North America. It seems like a great way for one person traveling light to sightsee. Hopefully, no negative experiences during my service occur that make me change my mind.

As Americans, we take our Eisenhower National Highway System for granted. I know I have all my life. It’s an amazing national accomplishment, especially when you see how potentially difficult it is to travel in a West African country the size of West Virginia. We have the liberty to travel all over the country on well-maintained roads. We have enforced safety laws and speed limits designed to make road travel as safe as possible. Of course, we pay for tolls and taxes regularly to preserve, update and construct infrastructure. But we should definitely be grateful for the ability to cheaply and easily travel from place to place throughout our very large country. Though accidents of course happen, take solace in knowing that other places in the world have much worse conditions. Their governments aren’t organized or don’t have the will or resources to invest in the quality of their national roads. They don’t have the personnel to police bad drivers. Traffic accidents and fatalities are frequent. It’s just the way it is. Here in Togo, you have to accept the risk each time you get in a bush taxi or mount the back of a moto. You put all your faith in the man in the driver’s seat. You hold on tight to the back of that motorcycle and hope for the best.