A word about getting around...

I’m not sure our brief discussion about the transportation in Cape Verde was sufficient in capturing the whirlwind of excitement and adventure that is the Hiace ride. Fortunately for everyone, immediately after posting our blog on Monday we had another fly-by-the-seat-of-our-pants-thrill-ride in one on our way back to Mancholy from Asomada.

Language (**SEE NOTE BELOW) is still a huge barrier and we have been having trouble conveying to Hiace drivers going in our direction that we are going to Mancholy and are ok with just being dropped off at the entrance of the Village, given that NO Hiaces go directly into Mancholy (without paying extra money and pre arranging it). So each trip starts out like this:

US – Mancholy?
HIACE DRIVER – Txada Lem
US – Sin, pertu Mancholy, pera Mancholy? (Yes, close to Mancholy, stop at Mancholy?)
HIACE DRIVER – (random gesture that we will need to pay more money to go to Mancholy)
US – Nau, ka NA Mancholy, na Estrada principal (No, not IN Mancholy, at the main road)
HIACE DRIVER – Ah, sin

After this we get on the Hiace, and the conversation happens again, just to make sure the crazy American’s realize they will have to walk to Mancholy from the main road, which we are well aware of. The whole thing has become very amusing at this point (the first time it was frustrating because we didn’t know how to say “main road” yet and thought the driver was trying to make a quick buck off of us just for stopping at the side of the road, but we figured out pretty quickly that it was just confusion as to where we’d be dropped off).

Ok, so we’re on the Hiace, in the back (still not sure where the “best” place to sit in the Hiace is at this point), and then we wait. Until it’s totally full. Well, totally full to the drivers standards, because in our minds, it’s full when there are three people in each seat, which is what is it meant to seat comfortably, which means…15 including the driver. Right.

On this particularly day with this particular driver, there seemed to be no cap or limit on “full” and we didn’t take off from Asomada until there were 22 people on board, including those hovering and sitting on laps. No worries though, because right after we started going, someone came running after us, and the number jumped to 23. Yes, 23 people in a van meant for 15. Ok, I’ll even admit that we can squish 19 in normally, and a couple of kids on laps make it akward but doable. But on this particular ride, on this particular day, there was only one kid in the whole Hiace, so that meant 22 adults crammed in. And did we mention we were in the back, furthest corner from the door? Meaning no easy escape had we felt it was too crowded and chosen to take another Hiace.

Each stop we made, folks got off but were replaced with more, including at one point a “traveling salesman” and his wares, which was like two extra people. Super fun. We should also mention at this point that Dove was feeling under the weather (more about that later) and super achy, so a Hiace ride in the back under normal conditions would have been less than comfortable, but on this particular day, with this particular driver, and with feeling particularly not good…but wait, there’s more!

As we were nearing Mancholy, passing the hospital, a bunch of folks were headed towards the road, presumptively headed back to Asomada. Our Hiace driver slowed, jerked the Hiace around, stopped on the opposite side of the road and declared (we think) that this was the end of the road and everyone should get off. Seriously. There were still at least 10 people left on the Hiace at that point, most going all the way to Txada Lam, which was still quite a hike from where we were, and none of us with a ride to our destination. In America, I can only imagine the indignation and outrage the riders might have expressed, but we all just got off, paid our money and went on our way. Of course the ride to Mancholy typically costs 50 Escudos, and we each handed him 40 Escudos instead, to which he replied “Nau, 50! Mancholy e la!” (No, 50! Mancholy is there!), to which we replied “Sin! Mancholy e la, mas nos e LI!” (Yes! Mancholy is there, but we are HERE!).

Arguing with a Hiace driver in Kriolu and winning made the whole trip totally worth it.

The thing that we are noticing about Cape Verde is that there are lots of (pretty minor) frustrations but they are pretty easily handled with humor and a little humility. Plus, it’s hard to get too huffy riding in a Hiace when your ride takes you past some of the most beautiful scenery you’ve ever seen – hillsides and valleys covered in green, mountains capped with clouds, tiny villages with houses placed precariously on the sides of said mountains and nestled in said valleys. This place is awesome.

And now for some health news…Dove has just recovered from her first official illness. She was feeling a little icky on Sunday which continued through Monday morning. In the afternoon, after getting back from Asomada (and that fateful Hiace ride) she took her temperature only to discover it was *gasp* 102. Oh no! It spiked in the night to over 103, but lots of napping, Tylenol and water helped, as did several trips to the bathroom, and now things are much better. Getting sick in Africa is a lot like getting sick in America, except 1) when you have the chills, they don’t necessarily have the blankets to keep you warm, 2) when you get the sweats its already 90 degrees, 3) your husband lives across town and isn’t around 24/7 to baby you, 4) the whole village knows you are sick and as soon as you step foot outside the house everyone asks if you are better yet, and 5) your host family is so nervous that something is really wrong that they ask if you are feeling good about 30 times a day, truly concerned about your health. Of course, this just goes to show how our host families have really welcomed us into their homes as part of their families.

**NOTE BELOW: Kriolu is a beautiful language, taken partly from Portuguese and partly from the languages of slaves brought here by slave traders. It is also, by most language standards, a pretty easy language to learn. Sentence structure isn’t terribly difficult, and unlike romance languages there aren’t any annoying very conjugations and very few gender agreements to make. However, although we are both doing pretty well in learning the language, we are both finding it a major challenge, mostly because in any language you have to memorize oodles and oodles of vocabulary. Interestingly as well, lots of words we use in English don’t exist in Kriolu; we may have 10 words to distinguish between super minor differences in words, and they may have just one or two words to do the same. (Dove: I’m beginning to think English just has waaaay too many words and I’m waaaay happy it’s my first language and I don’t have to learn it later in life). We are both SUPER grateful that we took advantage of the Rosetta Stone package in Portuguese that the Peace Corps offered to us (for free) because, if nothing else, it got our minds back in that “language learning” mode, and also because there is some cross over in Portuguese and Kriolu (though usually just enough to be confusing and accidently say things in Portuguese). So for any future Peace Corps Trainees/Volunteers out there reading this blog, do as MUCH language before you get here as humanly possible, even if it’s not the actual language you’ll be speaking. You can’t possibly be a good, effective volunteer if you can’t speak the language.