You see, for a while now, I've been under the impression that hitching is frowned upon by PC Lesotho. We definitely have a rule about riding in backs of open-bed trucks - if you do that, you will be on a plane back home pretty quickly. And no driving either. No problem there, I do neither of those things. But I THOUGHT it was best if at least I don't go out of my way to discuss the fact that I hitch.
Anyways, I recently picked up the PC Lesotho Handbook to see what it says on the matter. Here it is:
---------
Hitchhiking
Catching a ride in a safe vehicle with a person known to a Volunteer may be a good option for transportation. In Lesotho, Volunteers are highly discouraged from standing along the side of a road attempting to hitch a ride with a person unknown to them. However, we understand that in certain circumstances, Volunteers might judge a private ride to be safer than a kombi. If you decide to hitchhike:
- Never take a ride alone. Always ride in a group of two, or preferably more.
- Never take a ride if the driver or other passengers are drunk or drinking alcohol in the vehicle
- Private vehicles such as cars or SUVs are preferable to larger commercial vehicles
- Always ensure that the vehicle is in good condition (e.g., tires in good condition, no major body damage, no loud noises, no giant clouds of black smoke, etc.)
----------
So, OK, it's "highly discouraged," except for when it's safer. But, within the context of those four bullet points (all of which I support)... I claim it is ALWAYS safer. Seriously.
Quite honestly, taxis/kombis are the unsafe mode of transport. These are 15 person vans, often packed with over 20 people (I've seen 26 once). Here is a picture of a kombi in unusually good condition.
Often times you are traveling on a route where there's only one kombi coming every hour or more. If you don't hitch, you take what you get. Sometimes this includes kombis that are barely functioning, kombis that are packed with sick people, drivers who are too young to have a license (but don't tell you), or drivers who are horribly reckless. Once two kombi drivers were so adamant that I should choose their kombi over a competitor that they assaulted me (I got away unscatched, thankfully). My friend had a screwdriver pulled on him in a similar situation. Fortunately, at this point we are all wise enough that, for the most part, we can spot a sketchy situation and find something better.
Not so ironically, yesterday I hitched with a guy who was returning from up north. There, he had been visiting a friend who had just been victim of a kombi that, when full of passengers, flipped over 4 times. She was badly injured, and a baby in the kombi was killed.
Now compare that to getting a hitch. While I can't prove that nothing unsafe ever happens in a hitch, I can definitely say that I've never heard of any PCV having a bad experience. People who own cars are almost always in the upper class of Lesotho. This means they are less desperate. It means they want less from you than, say, the drunk taxi conductor who tried to buy my female friend from me for 5 cows (a bad price, I'm told), or the abrasive woman who demanded that I give her money, then candy, then a job. Plus there are seat belts.
And there are many other advantages beyond the safety.
1. It's cheaper. Occasionally a driver will ask for a few rand, but generally it's a nice perk to save some money.
2. It's faster. Kombis make tons of stops and break down quite often. Private vehicles don't really.
3. It's more comfortable. People won't angrily slam your window shut when you open it. You won't sit cramped between 3 obese women and their babies on a bench made for 3. There's no oppressively loud music.
4. The Restoration Theory. A friend of mine brought this up a while ago. When she said it, I immediately realized that I felt this way all along, only I never knew I felt it until she articulated it. The idea is that, as PCVs, we are always giving, and whenever we stop to take a breath, someone is there asking us to give more. Granted we came here expecting as much, but still it can be draining. So, getting a hitch helps to restore a sense of balance in our minds. It is genuinely fulfilling to be reminded that, as much as it feels like we are here to give endlessly to Basotho who were so recently strangers, there are Basotho who are willing to give something to us, even though we are total strangers to them.
5. It's fun! Among other reasons, I came to Peace Corps to meet new, interesting people, and to try to understand their lives. There is no better venue for a short interview with a total stranger than in a hitch. It's a captive audience, and usually they picked you up in the first place because they're excited to talk to someone different. Some of the interesting people I've hitched with:
- Members of Parliament
- A guy who owns a construction company in the capital of Botswana (who drove a $70000 car)
- The director of Lesotho's Outward Bound program
- A former soldier/former racecar driver (that is one person)
- A Phys-Ed teacher (probably the only one in this country, actually) who went to college in Cuba
- The director of the local funeral home
- An Indian Muslim shopowner, who told me a story about traveling to NYC 2 months after 9/11, and being arbitrarily thrown in jail for 2 months before being let go. He holds no ill will against America though, and he picked my friend and I up assuming we were American, but knowing we were in no way responsible for his imprisonment. He gave us his number in case we ever need a ride again.
- A gay police officer (gay in Lesotho is rare)
6. Goal 2. Peace Corps is structured around 3 core goals:
"1. Helping the people of interested counties in meeting their need for trained men and women.
2. Helping to promote a better understanding of Americans on the part of the peoples served.
3. Helping to promote a better understanding of other peoples on the part of Americans."
I could write a ton about hitchhiking and goal 2, but I'll just say that some of the absolute best, most meaningful conversations I've had with Basotho have been while hitchhiking.
So, there you have it, my treatise on the merits of hitchhiking in Lesotho. Everyone back home, I miss you and hope you are well.
