Think getting to D’Jenne is a challenge? Try leaving. The only form of public transportation in the area is by bush taxi. If you’re not familiar with the term, it’s usually an old minivan or station wagon that’s been converted to carry as many people or animals as possible, and runs on a flexible schedule. They only depart when full, so your wait could range from minutes to days, depending on your luck. Yes, minutes or DAYS.
We were told to arrive shortly after sunrise to secure our spots, which we did. Within minutes we learned that our seats were assigned to the second taxi, as the first one was already full. Since the first filled up quickly, I assumed that ours would too, but that was not the case; I secretly blamed the juju.
We spent six long hours sitting next to a donkey cart, waiting for fellow passengers to trickle in. We were joined by three Peace Corp volunteers headed to Sevare, just outside of Mopti; two were stationed in Mali and one in Cameroon. It helped to pass the time, and all were extremely personable and easygoing, reminiscent of friends from home. It’s a shame we hadn’t crossed paths earlier.
We squeezed in, crossed the ferry, and made it 30 kilometers to the main road before getting a flat. We waited at the intersection and eventually boarded a passing bus headed to the same location. We’re still unsure if this was arranged by our driver or if they just had pity on us. Either way we were relieved.
The bus ride wasn’t good by any stretch of the imagination, but compared to previous rides, it was a walk in the park. Conversations void of pantomiming and an occasional breeze works wonders on me.
