Public Transport (cont’d)
Okadas
These motorbike taxis are the fastest way to get around town but they are also the most dangerous and I have sworn never to get on the back of one. They weave in and out of traffic taking no regard for the rules of the road. When walking I have to constantly check when crossing as they will happily ride on the wrong side if it is the fastest way to reach their destination. The drivers are distinctive for their strange style. I’m not quite sure why you need to wear a wooly hat in these temperatures but they do. I think for some it is to make their head fit the crash helmet they are wearing but many don’t bother with such things. The crash helmets can be taped together, have no chin strap or be a bicycle helmet – anything goes, none of which would help in an accident. The driver’s name is on a plate on the front of the bike. However, you can’t be sure that is who is driving as the bike may be shared between three so that it is running all day and night. Needless to say they are not the most road worthy vehicles (but you can say that about taxis and podas too).
Walking
Walking has always been my preferred way of getting around London and I have adopted that approach in Freetown. Walking here, especially now the rainy season has come is full of unforeseen obstacles. Pavements do exist, and I am very grateful there is one all the way between home and work. The pavements cover storm drains and have holes in them to allow the water to spill out when the torrential rains come. Sometimes, however, slabs are missing and you must beware as the drop down could be 5 or 6 feet. The next obstacle can be a pile of rubbish on the pavement when they clear the ditches where it piles up. You also have to negotiate your way around plies of sand when they are laying new pipes – which they seem to be doing everywhere.
So there can be pavements but often as not there are not. This is when it is very important to walk into the face of on-coming traffic. The verges are uneven with many rocks to balance along or at the moment puddles to negotiate as the tarmac has worn away and there are numerous potholes. We are only at the start of the rainy season and I hate to imagine the state of the roads at the end of it. The road outside the flat seems to be washing down the hill and I have to pick my way through rocks to make it down past the houses to Main Motor Road.
All that said I am unperturbed and still prefer to walk most places. So much so that many people tell me that they have seen me walking. All comment on the concentration on my face and the speed I go.
Housework
One decision I made in 2010 was to hire a cleaner – one of my better decisions, especially when it came to ironing. Here we have a lady, Issata, who does our washing. No washing machine but scrubbing board and brushes. Our delicate Western clothes really do not appreciate such treatment and I have many a garment which is looking a bit bashed up. I do wonder if they will survive at all the scrubbing. Once washed it is hung on the balcony to dry. Ironing is then outsourced to the houseboy downstairs as I do like to have my clothes ironed and he does a great job.
Cleaning has been more of an issue. I did ask Issata to clean but was not too satisfied by the results so I have started doing it myself. I follow the DSM routine: dust, sweep, mop. Not too difficult you say but in the heat here I have had to resort to doing it in my underwear as I become such a sweaty mess. A vision no one needs to see. The kitchen and bathroom are fine but there is a huge amount of floor space in living area and balcony. The sweeping is uncomfortable as the brushes are a bunch of reeds so you are constantly bent over. Sweeping appears to be a national preoccupation here as I wake every morning the sound of my neighbours sweeping but there seems to be no thought of sweeping it up rather the aim is to sweep it around!
My mop, it must be said, has seen better days but it does the job. Of course the fun is always ending up at one end of the room with an expanse of wet floor in front of you and realising you have left the drying cloth in the bathroom. Your feet are constantly filthy here so mopping the bathroom floor has become a bit of an obsession as it is always covered in mucky footprints. Scrubbing out the bottom of the shower is another task that needs done twice a day as I am constantly showering.
Well that’s enough for this instalment. Next time... ..shopping
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