Getting Around - Beninese style

So, as of this blog I’ve merely written about my experience here in Benin and nothing of general observations. I’ve essentially chronicled my time here, not given an assessment of what I’ve seen. If you know me, and or my professional life, you know that I’m intimately involved with transportation, and more acutely, clean-energy technologies and automotive efficiency. I’ve worked with clean energy transportation for awhile: I was in a hybrid vehicle building competition, I worked with the Department of Energy’s Vehicle Technologies program, I’ve given presentations on the advancements of automotive technology, and I’ve hosted events on clean public transportation. In brief, I like clean energy, I like transportation, and I like technology. Here in Benin, which I realize is a third world nation, I don’t find much clean energy. To be quite honest, I don’t think they care too much about their environment. Benin is struggling to just have enough to help its self along, let alone think about the future. Benin is very much so an in-the-moment kind of thinker not really looking too far into the future.

Most vehicles in this country run on diesel, which, of all the fuels, is my favorite. (Diesel inherently is more efficient, 30% to 40% more efficient, due to the higher energy-per-volume content of the fuel and how it’s combusted in the engine.) That being said, diesel was progressing in a clean energy direction in the States (Ultra-Low Sulfur Diesel, advancements in diesel engine and exhaust technology), but as you can probably imagine that technology has yet to make it over to Benin. In the United States we have fuel standards. These standards are assigned and then checked and regimented all throughout the country. In Benin, fuel is sold out of coke bottles and old wine bottles on the side of the street, for the most part. (I have a photo of a small gas station on the side of the largest road in the country.) That essentially means that there are no standards, you can find numerous things mixed in with the fuel (i.e. water, soda, oil, urine, etc.) and standards don’t exist. Also, most vehicles in this country are scooters and motorcycles. Most of the scooters are of the two-stroke variety and have their oil and fuel mixed together. What this does is increase the particulate matter content of the exhaust, which is already super high with regard to diesel, thus injecting the air we breathe with yummy-delicious harmful toxins and carcinogens. (Side note: all this great and yummy air that I’m breathing, and, specifically, the particulate matter in the air will be stuck in my lungs for the rest of my life.) Most large trucks are left over from the 60s and 70s and therefore have no exhaust treatment to clean/neutralize the exhaust. I’m sure you can all imagine the thick, black smoke that used to come out of tractor-trailers, multiply that by about three; also, the exhaust pipe comes out of the bottom of the truck, not out of a stack that shoots upward. That means if you’re standing/driving/riding anywhere near the trucks as it passes you you’re in store for a delicious exhaust-filled treat, which I’m sure has the same effect as smoking 30 packs of cigarettes. A fellow Peace Corps volunteer was recounting a vacation of his in Egypt after I asked him why he smoked and his response I feel is quite applicable: “It’s better than breathing.”

I’ve already brought up the idea of gas stations, which are merely side-of-the road shanties with coke bottles, wine bottles, and really fat wine bottles filled with fuel, which I’m sure they’ve mixed themselves. To display the price they place a gas jug in front of the gas shanty with the price displayed on the front in chalk. (It’s around a dollar a litre.)

In Benin they have taxis, which are normally station wagons with orange license plates and far too many people shoved into them. To give you an example, my friend Catherine was in a taxi from Parakou to Kandi, both of which are fairly large cities, and she sat/was squished into her taxi with 13 other people. The mere physics of it defies all my preconceived notions of available space in a taxi, let alone how this encroaches on my idea of personal space. We like to think that back seats hold two MAYBE three people. No so much here in Benin. For the most part, they shove four people to a row, and sometimes five. Children sit on their parents laps, I’m not sure if they have to pay or not, and I’ve yet to see a taxi with air conditioning. So, as you can imagine the noxious odors coming from the diesel fuel, the exhaust, mixed with the lovely aroma of 12-14 people shoved into a station wagon with no air conditioning, not to mention the general lack of hygiene in Benin, can be a bit overwhelming. These taxis are mainly long distance taxis. You would only take a vehicle like this if you were traveling between cities. For traveling within a city, or from a larger city to a smaller village near by, you take a Zemijohn. A Zemijohn is a moto-taxi, or a dude on a motorcycle with a hat, generally. They are always men, I think I’ve heard of a female one time, they sometimes are crazy, and they always are trying to screw you out of money, well, in Porto Novo. Elsewhere in the country there are set prices for things. (I don’t know if I’ve covered this before, but, for the most part, you have to haggle every price in this country. Whether it’s a Zemijohn, or a woman at the market, you have to argue down prices and haggle to the best possible price available. This idea is a bit taxing, sometimes I just want to know what the price is an pay it while not feeling like I’ve been screwed over.) As I’ve stated before, most vehicles in this country are scooters and motorcycles and it might have something to do with the over abundance of Zemijohn drivers. They drive erratically, they speed, they cut corners, and sometimes they’re not sober. I have to take them from time to time, especially when I have to travel long distances through the city, but for the most part I enjoy riding my bike. It’s a tad safer. But, when you’re traveling away from your hometown you have to ride Zemijohns to get around. (Side note: Benin is the only Peace Corps country where volunteers are allowed to ride motos, per my staging director. And, that’s because it would be impossible to get around without riding on them. That being said, we HAVE to wear helmets or we’ll be sent home, no questions asked.)

I want to let everyone know something else about Benin. Everyone is horny. And, i mean this in the I-have-to-honk-my-horn-at-any-chance-I-get kind of way. It's as though a car/moto horn is how they exact their personal vendetta against placidity and calmness. I can't say this enough. People in this country honk their horn at every chance they get. They honk to let you know they're behind you, they honk to let you know they're in front of you, they honk to let people know they've arrived at an intersection, they honk to let you know that they've received your honk, Zemijohn drivers honk to let you know they see you, Zemijohn drivers honk to let you know they are around, and sometimes, I promise you I'm not making this up, people drive down the road honking at nothing. They just honk to honk. Honk. This country is honky-horn happy and it creeps me out.

Another form of transportation, and by far my favorite, is large tour bus. They’re usually air conditioned, they have an assigned number of seats, and, for the most part, are safe. I mean, we’re the largest thing on the road. You do have to watch out of the window at every stop to make sure no one is stealing your luggage, or, just setting it on the curb thinking that its owner is getting off at that stop. Buses in this country are the most expensive way to travel, but by far the most efficient and safe. I’m sure I’ll be taking lots of them.

Now we move on to personally owned vehicles. This is the first country I’ve lived in that didn’t have its own automotive country (U.S.A., France, Japan) and it’s kind of interesting to see what vehicles make it to this country. If you’re not a taxi driver and you’re not rich, you probably don’t have a car. That means, for the most part, it’s taxis and nicer vehicles. People drive Lexuses, Mercedes, BMWs, I saw a Cadillac Escalade, I’ve seen vehicles from all over the spectrum. But, for the most part, there really aren’t that many American vehicles over here. The aforementioned Escalade is one of about five gas-guzzlin’ machines I’ve seen make it across the pond. And, the vehicles I have seen have been pretty random. I’ve seen a Dodge Intrepid, a Buick Rendezvous, a Dodge Caliber, and a few others I can’t remember. But, all in all, it’s just a random mix of vehicles. I’ve seen a Volkswagen dealership, a Toyota dealership, a Mitsubishi dealership but I’ve seen no American dealerships in this country. I guess these American automotive dealerships didn’t see the Africa market as a viable option.

Transportation in Benin is all over the map. (he he, puns) We have crazy Zemijohn drivers, and thick, smog-filled air, and over stuffed taxis. Though some of the vehicles may barely work, let me assure you, their horns do. It really goes along with all the other things in Benin that are mind boggling and amazing, but it’s just one of the many things that makes this adventure worth every minute.