The oh so reliable African bus system

This morning I left Chefchouen by bus at 6 a.m. on what was supposedly a 3 to 4 hour bus ride to Meknes. I was advised my Mandy, a girl I met in Granada, who has spent the last two years doing Peace Corps in Morocco, to only ride the CTM or Supratours buses. Well, not being one for actually taking other people's advice, I bought a bus ticket from a company whose name I don't even know because it was only written in Arabic. I figured it was a relatively short ride, no big deal, plus the ticket was cheaper. Well I get to the bus station about a quarter to 6 and go to put my backpack in the luggage compartment. The guy take it throws it in and then is like that's 5 dirhams. At first I think he just wants money for putting my bag in the luggage compartment, which I think is ridiculous because I could have just done it myself. Then he's like, no there's a luggage fee. Oh, well I paid that when I bought my ticket, I say. Although, it's not that simple bc he doesn't really understand or speak English and I definitely don't understand or speak Arabic. Then some random old guy comes walking down the stairs of the bus and is like 10 dirhams and is holding out his hand. At this point I'm really annoyed and kind of pissed, because I already paid the 10 dirham luggage fee when I bought my ticket, and it's clear that the guy that took my bag knows this. But now it's two versus one and the old guy is blocking my way onto the bus. So I hand him 5 dirhams and lie and say that's all I have and am allowed onto the bus.

The bus is pretty much empty when I get on and I sit in an aisle seat so creepy old guy can't sit next to me. A few more people get on the bus (none of whom paid any luggage fee) and off we go, only a half hour past schedule.

The thing I did not realize about the bus system here is that the bus stops for anyone, anywhere at anytime. And the way they stop is by coming to a rolling stop at the side of the road, the luggage guy opens the back door, people jump on, and the bus often begins pulling away before the luggage guy gets all the way back on the bus. If someone wants off the bus it seems all you have to do is just start yelling at the driver until he pulls over.

So when we hit Ouezzane, a town about one-fourth of the way to Meknes, an hour and a half into our journey, I knew it was going to be a long ride. Another thing I noticed about the busses here is that people, and particularly women tend to crowd towards the front of the bus. Even if there are open spaces in the back, people will fill the front seats first, and have no qualms about sitting next to strangers as long as they are of the same sex. I was sitting in the middle, but near the back and looking around noticed that it was starting to fill up quickly, but only with men. So when we stopped at Ouezzane I moved a few seats forward, and soon had a seatmate of an older woman. Another thing is that everyone, men and women, was wearing long sleeves and long pants. Many of the men were wearing sweaters, and all but one other woman were wearing the head scarf. Meanwhile the temp on the bus is quickly rising to well above 70 degrees.

So we're going along and I'm feeling pretty good about the bus ride, enjoying the mountain farmland scenery and the company of my seatmate, despite the fact that we can't really communicate, when all of a sudden the bus starts making a very loud grinding noise, only to come to a complete stop, pretty much in the middle of nowhere. (At this point I'm reminded of Kenny's photo that I have hanging in my room of the broken down bus in the middle of the desert, only we're in the mountains.) Once people start realizing that this isn't going to be a quick fix, they start getting out of the bus, which is starting to fill up with diesel fumes. So I get out too and find a shady place to sit. I notice a few people have wandered out into the fields, including my seatmate and are picking something - at first I think they're picking wild flowers, but then one kid comes back to his mom and dumps a load of some kind of peas or beans in front of her. They begin shelling and eating them. A little while later we get back onto the bus and head out, although at a much slower speed than before. The woman sitting next to me has gathered a bunch of the beans and shares with me.

Life is good as we start to approach Meknes, until the bus breaks down again. This time I think it was just a matter of running out of gas, because a few mintues later the driver and the luggage guy have constructed some sort of contraption and are pouring fuel into the gas tank and then we actually stop at a gas station and fill all the way up. Meanwhile the bus people (there are three of them - the driver, the luggage guy and the ticket guy) proceed to get into a yelling match with each other and the gas station attendants. I have no idea what about.

Needless to say, I arrived in Meknes, found a hostel and am feeling settled in. Maybe next time I will take a CTM bus, but then again, maybe not : )