Obruni in Ghana

I don’t remember if I wrote about them already (I most probably did) but they deserve another post. I love them! I love them, I love them, I love them, although they’re wasting so much of my time (but hey, so is being in the office; and being on a trotro is much more interesting). On Tuesday, I made it home in 2 hours and 10 minutes. Record time! I was so happy I had to tell everyone. :) Can you imagine me being anywhere else (meaning in the “Western” world) and not complaining about 2-hour commute (well, it’s usually faster to get to work, it takes about 1.5 hour, from work, it can take up to 3 hours) every day? I can’t… I wouldn’t be willing to do it. But here I am and enjoying it. I know it’s probably because it’s for a limited time, but still.

Trotros just amaze me. The whole system amazes me. Coming from Europe, I’m used to having pretty good service when it comes to public transport. Buses, trains, timetables… Being able to check if my train is late online. All these things. Here – no timetables, no air-conditioning (I mean – really, just imagine, you’re happy the car doesn’t break down while you’re in it most of the time, who cares about A/C?), you’re squeezed on a seat that is sometimes too small for me (and you know African women have butts much bigger than mine is :)), in this humid weather, with too many people (one of the reasons I love trotros – they’re much safer than taxis as there are too many people to let someone do something to me; also, in a taxi I feel too much like a tourist, the color of my skin is enough :)). But, as much as there are no timetables, there are bus stops. And most of them have names. For some reason, it amazes me. I wonder how the system developed. How it started, how they figured out where to start a new route, all that. Back home, it’d be easy – you just look at how many people live where, how many commute to where and you got all you need. But there’s no way to figure this out here by looking at some statistics. And talking about bus stops, I’m the source of entertainment for many mates (the guys on the trotros who collect money from the passengers) when I tell them that I’m going to Heavens (that’s the name of my bus stop because the inn in front of the house is called Heavens). Because the trotro is loud, people speak quietly, so it’s pretty much like answering “Where are you going?” with “Heaven.” Yea, right, white girl! :)

Lastly, I’d like to say that I’m pretty good at telling which trotro is going to break down on the road just by the sound of it. It’s entertaining. I’m also good at hitting my head almost every time I’m trying to get on/off a trotro (entertaining probably for the other passengers watching the obruni, but my head hurts right now :)).