All
volunteers in Madagascar
have to travel by taxi brousse at least sometime during their service;
if not every time they want to go somewhere.
Though it gets easier for some, catching a brousse at the station can be one of the more
trying and chaotic times during our service.
This is intensified at the stations in the capitol, Antananarivo.
I am one of the few volunteers that do
not mind the regular brousse ride back to my region. Usually for me it is an easy comfortable
ride, especially when compared to my brousse ride to my town. But the thought of having to go to the
station sometimes fills me with apprehension and has me thinking of what else I
can do to put of the
inevitable.
inevitable.
Getting to the station I must first
decide whether to take one or two different taxibe’s (same as a brousse, but service as public transportation in
the city) or to hail a real taxi. The
later is the most reasonable choice when carrying a lot of baggage. You pay for the whole taxi, they put all your
baggage in the trunk, and they drive you to the station of your choice. The only problem with this choice is that it
is exceedingly more expensive; upwards to 30 times more (though really only $4,
it is a lot to a volunteer). Choosing
the former, which is what I usually do, saves a lot of money; it cost 400
Ariary ($0.12) per ‘Be.’ The downside to
this is that I have to take not one, but two ‘Be,’ which means that I have to
lug my pack/s on and off two separate heavily crowded buses. This is not an easy task as my pack is wider
than the aisle. Not to mention the lag time caused by the ‘Be’ stopping at
every bus stop and the time waiting on the transfer between the two ‘Be.’
The ‘Be’ lets me off on the road
outside the station and it is hard to relate into words what Fasan’ny Karana,
my station, is like. For starters, the
station itself serves to send all the brousses to the towns south of the capital. The station is a large walled complex with
two gates; an entrance and exit (though taxis enter and exit through the
entrance gate). The road in the complex
is dirt which means that it is usually slushy mud, or at the very least covered
in muddles. Upon entering the complex
there is a long row of offices for the different companies on the left and
small stores/restaurants on the right.
In front of the stores/restaurants is a large covered sidewalk where
small vendors have set up shop to sell street food. On the backside of the stores/ restaurants
are where the majority of the brousses are lined up, backs to the wall, as far
you can see.
The layout of the station alone is
enough to give some anxiety to even the most tempered person, but it does not
stop there. Imagine this layout filled
with hundreds of people; some just loitering, but most running around with some
aim in mind. Many of the people at the
entrance, not only after entering the station but outside of it as well, are
trying to vie for your business. Most of
these people get commission from the different companies for bringing them
business so upon entering you are bombarded by people asking where you are
going and trying to guide you to their companies office. It is this stage of the process that many
people find it the hardest. For me, I
simply reply “Efa Misy (Already exists)” and then they turn away and usually
relay that information to their friends.
Once past this stage and you have made it through that throng, you then
have to make your reservation with a company.
At most stations this is not a problem, but this one has a bad
reputation of trying to charge you more than the regular fare, especially if you
are a Vazaha (foreigner). Knowing the
right company and the right fare price is key.
In the office you then look at a drawn map of the seat layout, pick your
seat (window seat if possible; there is no air conditioning), and pay your
fare. Someone will then walk you through
the crowd, down a small dirty passageway through the stores/restaurants, and
around to your brousse, and leave you there.
At this point you have hurried
through all the previous stages of the affair and now you wait. If you are lucky, at this station I usually
am, then your brousse is being packed and they will take your
bag and throw it on top of the bus. At
this point you are free from your luggage and just have to waist time till the brousse is ready to leave. This is always unknown. When asked, the driver will always give you a
time or say ‘soon,’ which almost never correct.
So you wait, and wait, and wait some more. During this waiting you may wonder around to
buy some food or drink or just stand around the brousse.
No matter what you do you must always, at least passively, be on guard
of pickpockets who are also wondering around the complex. Others that are also wondering around are
people selling all sorts of things. You
can usually get a good price but if you are not planning on buying then it is
best you do not ask the price or even look to intently at the products; once
done it will be hard to get them to go away without buying.
After all the seats in the brousse have been filled and the packing done,
the driver will then call out the name of each person and point for them to
take their seats. Once this is done you
then wait some more because the road out is too packed with other brousses and people for you to make a get
away. But once you make it out the gate
the ride begins and it is easy sailing, baring any breakdowns, for the next
foreseeable future. In my case, 17 hours
later, including a stop for food, and I have arrived at my banking town ready
to catch another brousse the rest of the 6 – 8 hours, on a good
day, to my town.
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