A Dolla’ Here. A Dolla’ There.

-Consider Yourself Lucky If You Ride in Style Like This-

I love my weekly commute.

Well, love might be overstating it a bit.

Taking local transport, the 40km trip is consistently thrilling – if not life threatening. Nothing gets the blood and adrenaline pumping like careening down pot-holed roads in a glorified mini-van packed to the gills with at least fifteen people [double that for the one seen above]. Anything less would likely be unprofitable.

In Kenya they are Matatus.
In Indonesia they are Bemos.
Here, they are Daladalas.

‘Why daladala?’ you ask.
‘Because it costs a dolla’ here and a dolla’ there!’
[Ba-dum-ching]

Actually, just over a dollar.
The fare between Ilula and Iringa is 1,500 Tanzanian Shillings or about $1.25.

Often times these metal beasts are fully tricked out with decals on the outside and customized seating on the inside. Banish images of fully padded, Itallian leather from your mind my friends; when I say customized seating, I mean that the original ones have been removed and replaced by raised seating benches in order to accommodate large baskets of produce or –as was the case the other day – a hefty load of lumber beneath the feet of the masses. While undoubtedly more profitable and only nominally less comfortable for the passengers, I’m hesitant to think what this does to the vehicle’s center of gravity as we go zipping between semi-trucks and petrol tankers.

Fear doesn’t really enter into the equation however.
Wedged into the vehicle as you are, you feel surprisingly secure. This might be due to the fact that you have absolutely zero mobility. Should anything go down, you ain’t going nowhere.

The downside is that your limbs can very easily be forced into some decidedly unnatural positions for a ride that can take anywhere between 1 and 3 hours – depending on the driver’s propensity to stop and chat with his friends along the way, oblivious to the plight of his passengers.

Through trial and error, I’ve learned the importance of choosing your seating position carefully before the tin-can on wheels is sealed for good. Minimizing your physical presence is crucial for a successful journey. Generally, I’ve found that a seated variation of the fetal-position works best.

Mentally I go into a Zen-like space as the women flanking me, without fail, begin nursing their children for the entire duration of the trip. Eyes forward, the big dude named Hamis, with whom I’m literally bumping knees, stares back at me grimly from his rear-facing seat.

Toss in the occasional chicken in a bag, open container of gasoline, and you’ve got the quite the volatile combination of people, critters, fumes, and vapors.

In short, there really is nothing quite like it!
Daladala? Truly a bargain and worthwhile experience at any price!