In America, I drove my own car nicknamed "Biggi Jiggi." She got me to and fro and was as dependent as the sunset. I had my freedom. Sweet Jesus I had my independence.
But here, things are different.
I'm totally reliant on the public transportation system, and I mainly ride what are called kombis.
They look like the bus that Scooby Doo and his crew rode in. Some are so old and rickety that I don't even know how they get around.
They pass my village about every 30-40 minutes. If I'm catching one in town or the capital city, I sometimes, have to wait a loooooong time for it to fill up before leaving. I always bring a book to pass the time.
The fair is cheap by American standards. It costs me roughly $3 US Dollars to go to and from town.
Riding in a kombi is like being in an overcrowded bar. You have no room to move your limbs, or breath. Imagine being packed like sardines, or pilchards, in a can.
And it gets really stuffy because the Basotho do NOT like to open windows. This is a battle I will fight because I need my fresh air, especially on those taxis.
Sometimes, you might end up with a baby on your lap. Just take the baby. Don't ask questions. That's anther battle I don't fight. There is no such thing as personal space here and on public transport, that baby is your baby, too. Ya dig?
The conductors and drivers can be relentless, too. I had to cuss out a conductor because he wouldn't give me my bags after placing them on his empty taxi. I wasn't going to sit on his empty taxi when there was a nearly full taxi that was gearing up to leave. Chile please!
There are plenty of times when I miss "Biggi Jiggi" but my big brother's taking care of her and I'll see her upon my return home later this year.
Until then, I'll keep on rolling with these kombis here.