Playing Chicken

Its a toss up. Sit in the front seat of the chapa, where it is far more comfortable, or sit in the back where I may be squeezed between three other big mama booties, with a chicken between my legs and a random African child on my lap, but at least dont have to watch my life flash before my eyes as we play chicken with oncoming traffic.

I think I can take the physical discomfort in loo of the mental exhaustion that comes along with clenching as I picture myself flying out th front window and dying slowly on the side of the sandy national highway, probably with no phone reception and with no ambulance to come get me anyway. (ps Mom don't be scared)

You wouldn't know it is a national highway, and you certainly wouldn't think it was the most driven highway in the country... especially on a rainy day when all you see is mud pit for miles and overturned semi-trucks leaving their loads of glass coca-cola bottles strewn over the stretch of sand. True story, massive truck, literally upside down.

Oh but it is. And it is also where I call home. The Estrada Nacional 1. I walk along it every few days for about 15 minutes on my way to the market. One word: dusty.

And I traverse the frightening territory each time I have to make the harrowing journey to Xai-Xai (used to take 1 hour, now it's 2) or Maputo.

It makes you wonder. What have these little Chinese Engineers done in the last year besides make a mess? Literally, a significant part of the road is no longer paved. Sand, dirt, mud, trucks, chaos. Sometimes I think I shouldn't complain because volunteers in the north of the country often have to travel like 8 hours on a dirt road in the back of a truck just to get to their site. Then I remember that they aren't traveling on the the most major highway in the country playing chicken with a seemingly endless line of semi trucks, angry South African tourists, and haphazard construction workers.

"Isn't that dangerous?" a nice Portuguese man, who took pity on the little white girl on the side of the road waiting for the "bus" and gave me a lift, once said to me. He was referring to the fact that I use public transportation. Easy for him to say in his air conditioned SUV.

"Yes, but I don't have a car. So what do you suggest I do?" In fact I have taken to hitch-hiking, because it is safer. I mean, I might end up in the car of a creeper, but at least there are seatbelts and usually free snacks. One time I even got a homemade grilled pork lunch out of it.... I also got to Maputo about 3 hours later then I was planning, but I suppose that is the trade-off.

Not that I am an engineer or anything, but my untrained eye sees no end in sight for the project. The Chinese engineers seem to just keep layering sand and dry cement, sand and dry cement, every now and again spraying water, sand and dry cement. They flatten each layer, then lay rocks and branches on it so no one can drive on the beautiful stretch they have worked to smooth out. Its like washing dishes but saying that people can only eat out of the litter box. Why clean the plate if you are just going to make everyone eat shit anyway?

"You would think they would do the road in parts, so there wasn't 60 or so kilometers of chaos all at once," I once muttered in frustration.
"Caitlin, you cant say things like or you will make yourself crazy," replied the nice Irish man who gave me a lift.

Even worse, they will fill holes in the the occasional spots of asphalt road, then put huge rocks in the middle of the road to keep cars from driving over the fresh cement. So not only do you end up having near head on collisions with approaching vehicles, you are swerving to miss giant boulders and caution signs that take up an entire lane of traffic.

There is one little stretch (like maybe 2k) that has been paved. Actually, there is one little stretch (like maybe 2k), with one lane that has been paved. Just enough that cars get on it and go crazy, as if the German Autobahn had been relocated to Mozambique and its sleek emissions conscious BMWs, and VWs morphed into mini-buses blowing black smoke out the back and little beat up trucks with about 7 African hitchhikers and 4 goats in the bed.

And though it is only one lane, both directions of traffic manage to squeeze on, with truckers keeping side mirrors as souvenirs of the weakling cars they have eaten.

Honestly, it is better to just drive on the "shoulder" and try not to hit pedestrians.