Good old public transport

Boarded the bus from Mzuzu at 6.20 am today, at 7.05 am (dept time is 7 am) the conductor got on and addressed the bus.  I am assuming he asked someone to bless the bus because the woman in front of me sprang out of her seat and began a long, long spontaneous prayer.  The only words I understood were driver, which she said 5 times, clearly a big concern, and the whole way (you get odd phrases in English in the middle of Chechewan sentences).  Prayer over, the entire bus said Amen and we left the depot.

Just before 11 am the bus  stopped.  In the middle of nowhere.  Access to the engine, or at least part of it, is via a large trap door just behind the gear stick.  Our driver half disappeared down the hole, tried a few things causing the bus to splutter, but not start.  He stood, said something else I didn’t understand and half the blokes on the bus filed off into the road.  I asked the man next to me if he could translate what was happening. “He wants us to get off and push” he said and immediately returned his attention to his Blackberry.  A minute later, sure enough we began to move and after the odd bunny hop the engine started.  15 blokes filed back on the bus, no-one said a word, maybe this happens every journey.

The only other thing of note – aside the odd supposedly comic neo-nazi zulu film which ‘entertained’ the passengers in between pop and gospel videos and ads promoting abstinence to help reduce the spread of Aids was my falling down the steps and off the bus, dignity out of the window and I’m now sporting a lovely bruised elbow in exchange!