122. Leaving Ouagadougou

122

Leaving Ouagadougou:

I am sitting in what they call a bus. It is a big old delivery van with holes cut in the panels for windows and with wood plank benches bolted around the sides.

There’s a guy outside under my window trying to light a cigarette but leprosy has eaten most of his hands off and he’s having a tough time of it. Ahhh. He’s finally got it! Now he can get his rush from whatever he’s burning.

Now two men are peeing below me on the side of the bus.

Here comes an optimist selling red and white striped plastic raincoats. We could sure use a little cooling rain!

Beggars have been hitting me all morning and I have tried to “cast a little bread on the waters”, but there is little bread for this mighty sea of poverty!

Here comes a van coming from the direction we’ll be going. Damn! There must be thirty people squashed into it including five French freaks. They see me as they pass, come over and ask me if there are any cheap hotels in this town. I mention the one I left this morning but it is too expensive for them. They head off to sleep in the train station. They’d better be strong!

At eight in the evening (I’ve been waiting in the bus since eight in the morning.) we pull out of Ouagadougou with twenty-seven men women and children passengers crushed into a single lump. It is impossible to move or even change position and the heat is incredible.

That is how we travel.

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