The cleaning day – which prohibits any movement unless you have a “pass, people stay at homes, cars don’t drive, businesses stay closed – didn’t in my eyes do much cleaning. It ended at 12pm. I set off to find bus to Jui, a junction where I was told to find transport on to Bo.
Entering a bus is a fight. You stand on a street side and busses – more vans – of all sizes and shapes arrive and suddenly people from all sides jump in. First bus that arrived was full by the time I had my backpack on my shoulders. Also, these busses don’t really allow for any kind of big baggage, how will I do it? Thankfully, some sort of manager of those busses materialised, not sure if he was official or just voluntary and he knew where I was going and he helped me to get in. I didn’t mind paying the extra 5,000le for the bag. The ticket alone was 5,000le.
Next to me sat a man going also to Bo. He was constantly calling someone named Alpha and enquiring about the state of the government bus which was leaving from town. He told me someone was keeping seat for him there and once we are in Jui he will jump in.
In Jue at first sight there is chaos. Crowds, motos, cars, vans at the junction with main road. I ask everyone I meet where to to Bo and I get directed, by road transport workers, in uniforms to a roadside where there are vans going to Bo. This chaos is quite orderly after all.
There is a van almost full, I pick the next one, bigger than usual, a mercedes minibus, throw my small bag on front seat (one must get permission from someone in charge to get front seat) and put my big rucksack under the backrow of seats. I’m the first. The driver either doesn’t speak English or intentionally speaks only pidgin to me.
People keep arriving, and amount of baggage grows. The minibus and generally busses here don’t have baggage holders on the roof. First I thought it’s illegal to install such but it isn’t. Anyway, big white bags of stuff arrive and there is no space for them in the back of the car. They try to tie them down with ropes while my backpack lies on the ground forgotten. Then they try to push in the backpack too, the backdoor doesn’t close, they try to somehow attach it with a rope. Finally one of the baggage people comes to me and asks if I can place the big bag between my legs in front seat. I don’t quite see it but I say let’s try. The bag lands there. If takes time but finally the driver starts collecting money, it’s 35,000le to Bo, and to me he says I should add 15,000 le for the bag. To which I, surprising even myself, I say I won’t pay for the bag when I have to hold it between legs when everyone’s load is packed in the back and mine was there too anyway, they just decided to leave it away. To which the driver without blinking says if I don’t wanna pay, I have to get off the bus.
I didn’t quite storm off, as the baggage was too heavy to do it. I dropped the bags on the ground and waited for another van to show up. They were showing up in twos. One elderly woman got even concerned and tried to tell me that everyone pays. I said to her I don’t mind paying but I simply don’t wanna travel with that driver coz he’s treating me like shit. Whatever.
Of course the driver soon found passengers in my seat.
I, too, found another van, which didn’t make issues with the baggage, even agrees to a lower bag fare – 10,000le.
Though the van got full quickly, we didn’t leave for quite some time: there were 3 large solar panels to be loaded onto the car. First they put them on the roof (no baggage holder because of course) and started tying the panels down with rope. Then they tried to place them vertically standing in the back of the van. Again, my bag on the ground and three men trying to tie the panels with a rope to the back doors of the van. Then again, they ended up tying the panels with ropes on the roof. My bag was back in the car. I managed to eat a bag of crackers from Sri Lanka, a local rice bread (tasty, apparently made from pounded rice mixed with bananas and sugar and I bought it, mea culpa, from a young girl).
A man came up to the car looking for a seat. I told him there is a seat in front. He asked me if he can sit next to me. I asked him back if I can sit next to me. When we agreed we can sit next to each other he said he wants to ask the driver to sit in front seat. The driver said that no, he can’t because if a police or army officer comes and wants to go in Bo, he or she may desire to sit in front seat so they are keeping that one seat empty just in case until the very moment of departure. Wonders of the world.
An officer didn’t arrive, so a man who was the owner of the panels sat next to me.
We left. The road was fast. At one point, on an empty road outside a village we stopped, the driver left the car and ran ahead. The man next to me said they are not allowed to carry the panels on the roof without a holder (!) and there is a checkpoint ahead so the driver went to talk. He came back, nothing was achieved. They dismantled the panels and the owner carried them on his head along a dirt road through the village, away from the checkpoint while we drove ahead through the checkpoint, drove into the village and met the man away from policemen and installed the panels back on the roof.
The panels were for a water pump in a hospital, I was told.
During one of the stops I drank what was the best ginger juice in Sierra Leone. Village taste buds are better than those in the city.
We had another checkpoint where my passport was checked.
In Bo I went to the same guesthouse I stayed when I was going to Freetown. 100,000le again. I quickly went to town to search for food, I hadn’t eaten since morning. Potato leaf stew and rice and large bottle of water – which I finished onsite – 40,000le in Ruri’s Restaurant. Then on for Guinness to Black & White Bar, apparently the only place that stays open during Ramadan.
Coming back to Maman 