The Truth about Transportation

Dec 14, 2011: First trip to Nampula city – Went to Nampula.  My what an adventure that was!  Coming back, caught a chapa to Feina chapa stop. So overwhelming there and by that time, I had lost all my patience, it was so hot and obnoxious people saying “amiga, give me money.” It sucks because it is hard to distinguish people that are jerks trying to take advantage of you and those who really are trying to help.  We opted for a chapa back.  Mistake!  Hot, cramped, waiting forever to fill the last “seat” even though it was packed already (30 people!).  As we waited, vendors attack through the door selling chargers, soda, cakes, bread, whatever.  Finally we made it home, to our hot stuffy house, but it’s still nice to kind of shut ourselves away and relax.

This was a journal entry after my first trip to Nampula city.  Oh Nampula.  It’s not my favorite city in the world.  Actually, it probably tops the list of my least favorite cities.  But, for us Northerners, it’s our city, our go-to place to buy cheese and other groceries, eat out at a restaurant, use free internet in our PC office and most importantly, pass through to get to other places.  Why is Nampula so bad?  Because the above is really all you can do there.  And, it’s not the safest place, definitely not somewhere I ever walk around at night.  Fortunately, I have learned to navigate the streets of Nampula and know those places to stay away from or where to keep my guard up and I haven’t had any issues walking around, yet. 

The second part of this journal entry, transportation.  Getting around Mozambique, you basically have two options: use public transportation (“chapa” [shop ah]) or try to hitchhike (“boleia” [bow lay ah]).  The further south you go, the easier it is to boleia – more people have cars, thus more traffic plus there are better road conditions.  Up north, “catching a boleia” can be a little harder.  Many volunteers opt for the hitchhiking option because 1. it’s much more comfortable 2. it’s faster 3. it can be safer (seatbelts).  The thing about hitchhiking is that you never know how long you are going to be waiting on the side of the road and when or even if someone will ever stop for you.  However, most people can easily rationalize this by arguing that it typically takes a long time for chapas to fill up.  So either you sit on the chapa or you can wait outside for something else to drive by.

Let me explain this further.  Chapas.  These are mini-buses, with four rows of seats plus the driver and passenger seats in front.  Though there are technically only three seats in a row, you always sit four people to a row and two up front in the passenger seat.  Frequently, they squeeze in a fifth row of four people facing backwards behind the driver’s seat, legs interlocking like a zipper with the front row of passengers.  So, that’s a minimum of 22 people, plus the driver, plus the “cobrador” [coe brah door] who stands in the second row by the door and is responsible for collecting money and opening and closing the door.  So a total of 24 people sitting very close together plus the usual babies or young children who sit in their parent’s lap.  It’s certainly an experience ha.

The chapa driver will not leave until every seat is filled.  That means, even if they are missing just one person and have 21 people, they will continue to wait, sometimes upwards of an additional hour, for that last person to come.  Fortunately, for me in Murrupula, because I am only about 75km from Nampula City, people frequently are coming and going to the city so my chapas usually fill up pretty quickly, averaging about 45 minutes.  (You can see my sense of time has changed a little bit ha.  Anything under an hour I consider fast!)  While travelling to other sites, however, it is not uncommon to wait over 1 or even 2 hours for the chapa to leave.  The longest I ever waited?  Over six hours!  When there are no other options though, all you can do is wait.  Patience is key in this country. 

I usually opt for the chapa option for my trips in to the city, just because I can see and have an idea of how much longer it’ll be.  Admittedly, I have “boleia-ed” several times (don’t freak out too much Mom and Dad, I’ve almost always been with another volunteer), and they are always much better rides complete with seat belts, sometimes air conditioning, and you can meet some cool people.  For instance, my last ride in to the city was with two South African gentlemen who told me all about places to go in Cape Town, which was convenient since I am going there for vacation in a few weeks.  The thing about hitchhiking is being selective, taking in to consideration the condition of the car and the driver, and not being afraid to speak up if you feel they are going too fast.

So that’s my adventure for getting in to the city.  Then you arrive at the chapa station, which is pretty much as I described in the journal entry: busy, crowded, people asking for money, vendors, marriage proposals, etc. 

As I reread that journal entry again, I smirk to myself thinking about how ridiculous it sounds but knowing that it’s my reality here and something I have grown accustomed to.  I still just shake my head when I see the six sheep tied to the roof of a chapa or a family of three driving by on their single motorcycle, baby sitting in front holding the handle bars, but no longer does it shock me quite as much.  I’m not really sure if that’s good or bad, to be honest.  Yes, I do get anxious while travelling, some times more than others.  Having had two friends pass away due to a car accident in this country, the risk is something I think about every time I travel here.  But you take all the precautions you can, mitigate the risk, and hopefully get to where you need to go safely.