When I get the chance to talk to my friends and family from home, they're always so sweet – asking me how I'm doing, how my work is going, letting me know they follow my blog and are proud of me, and they hope I stay safe. I also get the odd, "are u like, scared ever?" Today, I answered yes to the last question, and this is why:
It started raining while I was at work - it was 4pm... I waited until 6pm - the rain did not die down at all - and I figured I should probably plan on getting home in the rain, via taxi. I had never done this before, and the majority of people here just stay put during the rain, including taxis, which means getting one was a challenge. And this storm was bad. At 9pm my colleagues finally got a taxi to pick me up. The driver seemed pretty happy to see me, as we went through the usual salutations, "ani tele, somogo odo, nkakene, here, barika..."
On the way home we picked up two more passengers... as is the way of the collective taxi in Burkina-Faso... and half way home I realised I only had a large bill on me (2000cfa's, and the taxi ride is supposed to cost only 300cfa's)... In turn, I asked the taxi man if he had change, and he said, "how much", and I said, "well, seeing as this taxi ride should only cost me 300cfa's - I know this since I do this same commute in collective taxi every day - you should give me 1700cfa's in change", which he then brushed off and continued driving.
I finally got to the main street of my house and asked him to stop, thinking he definitely didn't have any change... Since he just wanted me to give him my big bill so he could "get me the change". I asked him to stop so I could get change from a corner store in my neighbourhood... I got out of the taxi and the taxi man got out as well... which was fine, until he followed me into the store, where he started yelling at the clerk in Dioula (the language here) after I asked if he had change for 2000cfa's.
This is when I reminded the store clerk that I AM HIS NEIGHBOUR and always buy stuff at his store and that I simply want change to pay the taxi man the proper fare....
At this point the taxi man was still yelling...
I finally said to the taxi man, "I am paying you 300 - which is 100 cfa's over the regular fare because it's raining and I live a little further than downtown.... that's all you're getting - I make this same trip twice a day and pay 300 - nothing more - so that's all you're getting"
To which he replied, "No I don't want 300cfa's! No! I picked you up from aaaaaaaall the way over there and brought you alllllll the way over here!! Blah No No No No blah blah blah"
So then I asked him how much he wanted me to pay, to reason with the mad man (which he was lucky I did – usually I don't even think about going up in price while negotiating here)... and he yelled, "600CFA'S!!!" In turn, I yelled, "va chier!"
Amongst obscenities, I said, "Tu penses que je suis conne?? Que j'avais ne hier? Je fais ce trajet chaque jour et je paye 300 aller, 300 retour! Incroyable! Je n'ai pas le temps ou la patience pour ca voici ton argent et je part!!" (Which means, "Do you think I'm stupid? That I was born yesterday? I make this commute every day and pay 300 there, 300 back. Incredible! I don't have the time or patience for this – here is your money I'm leaving!") And I placed the 300cfa's on the table (because he wouldn't take it when I handed it to him), and tried to walk out of the store, which is when he tried to stop me – physically – from leaving the store. This is when I started getting scared.
And I said, "ne touche moi pas!"("Don't touch me!")... And kept walking, trying to seem confident.
I then walked out of the corner store (he followed me), then picked up my pace as I got around the corner of my street. I didn't even look back at this point and BOLTED like a mad woman... two big bags in tow... I don't think I've ever run that fast in my life. And after ringing the doorbell eight million times, looking behind me etc... I got into the front gate and safe into my house.
I was so shook up I was as white as a ghost and couldn't stop shaking. All I could think about as I was running was the fact that I am in a place where no one really knows me – where I am a stranger. This taxi man could have done I don't know what to me, but someone up there loves me and is protecting me... Thanks auntie Lise and Sylvie.
Hence I am safe and sound.
Needless to say I was already precautious over here –this little experience has just made me one very paranoid Canadian. I now have mixed feelings about leaving next week... The beautiful greenery of Bobo alone makes it worth the 18-hour trip from Canada, but I'm glad I'm leaving next week... I don't feel completely safe anymore. After close consideration, the verdict remains the latter.
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