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Journal of African trips

Africa, spring 1999 part III

Agelasto
2004-05-21 18:12:22

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cars in his seven years in the US, and he loved to drive fast (I don?t like going
under 90 on a long trip, he told me) and didn?t like to be confined by a seat belt. A few
weeks later I learned that Liu Xu had been killed in a traffic accident, a few hours after I
had seen him, my books found in the mangled wreck. I was apparently the last friend to
see Liu Xu alive. Liu Xu was almost thirty. To have to bury one?s child (Liu Xu?s father
went to the US to collect his son?s remains, close down his business and tidy up his affairs
- the son left no will, which is to be expected of twenty-somethings) is probably the most
difficult event in anyone?s life, which although not a rationale is certainly a good enough
reason, I think, for one to be childless.

Thinking about, grieving for, Liu Xu is one of those make-think activities that I construct
in order to pass away the hours in a bush taxi. The single ride I am now experiencing will
end up taking 22 hours, although the entire journey in various vehicles will last 36 hours.
Grueling and uncomfortable and interesting is how best to describe it. Traveling around a
country this way lets you see a place from the local perspective.

I am leaving Basse, The Gambia, in a pick-up truck. This bush taxi runs a shuttle service
from Basse to the border, about twenty kilometers away. I go to buy a ticket and pay for
my luggage, which should be priced at about one-quarter of the fare, but something which
is always subject to negotiation. In some cases, drivers want to charge almost the same
for the rucksack as for me (passenger fares are standardized; luggage fees are not). I
explain that my sac weighs only one-fifth of my body weight and should be priced at no
more than one-fifth of the fare. I lift up the rucksack with one finger to prove how light it
is (I think I sprain the finger) and gesture ...