Riding of the Matatu
Most people Came to Kenya for the wildlife, I came for the Matatu.
Having first read about them on the Lonely Planet, I was immediately intrigued. I had seen some of its relatives cruising the streets in Tanzania, and even rode on one of its distant cousins, call the Dalla-Dallas. But, a Dalla-Dalla is Dalla-Dalla, NOT a Matatu. A Matatu is a totally different kind of beast all together, as far as transports are concerned....This is a totally unique specie, indigenous only to Kenya.
How to Survive a Matatu East Africa, Lonely Planet
Matatus are more than just transport. They are Kenya's contribution to world culture, These gaudily painted minibuses with 200-decibel stereo systems have a crew of three: the driver, who normally hasn't slept for three days, keeping himself going by chewing miraa shoots; the conductor, who extracts fares from reluctant passengers; and the tout, a veritable Daddy Cool whose aerial gymnastics on the outside of the minibus ought to be an Olympic event. Governmental efforts to regulate the matatu industry have reduced decibel levels, but not much more,
Matatu travel is not exactly a bed of roses. In fact, as one look at the Daily Nation will tell you, the beds most often associated with matatus are the ones in hospitals, so there are a few rules and principles you should be aware of:
Under no circumstances allow yourself to be placed in the 'Death Seat' next to the driver - extra leg-room and the occasional shoot of miraa do not outweigh the disadvantage of certain death in the event of a head-on collision.
Just which are the best seats in a matatu is debatable. The two rows behind the driver should be avoided for safety reasons, while the back seat is a pain in the neck for tall people. Sitting next to the window is OK, but you'll bang your head when crossing rough ground. Wedged in like a sardine on the middle two seats in the second row from the back you'll be better protected in the event of a head-on collision, overturning on 'a sharp corner or any end-over-end Evil Knevel-type stunts. Fight for these seats.
Don't voluntarily get into a matatu named 'Death or Glory', 'White Lightning', 'Get in & Die', 'Velocity' or 'Beat the Reaper' for obvious reasons.
Valium is available over the counter in Kenya.
Avoid night journeys because of drunk drivers and the lack of adequate/any lights on many vehicles. However, it's been suggested that matatu standard operating procedure (overtaking on blind bends, below the crest of steep hills etc) makes traveling at night a safer option. At least headlights warn of an oncoming vehicle, if it has any headlights ...
If the locals look nervous you have a problem.
Engine ignition can occur 45 minutes before you leave and is simply a method of attracting passing trade. The same goes for a sudden, but slow, departure (often just a tour of the bus station). Up to five changes of driver may occur during this stage.
There is always room for one more.
Getting into a passing half-empty matatu is not always a good idea if the crew is just trawling the streets in an effort to fill the vehicle. At the bus station numerous touts will try and fill the vehicle which will speed up your journey. Not that it'll require much speeding up.
A pot-holed road is a good road. It slows you down.
Having spend all my money on climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro, and the Safari. With little time and money left, I had decided this will be my next cheap thrill. I was not disappointed.
Night 1,
Having made my way to the hostel under police escort, I decided to sit in, and wait for morning. Having spend nearly 12 hours on a bus between Dar es Salaam and Nairobi, and having little to eat. I settled in at the stringy little hotel lobby, to watch a little TV. The news came on ....
"Five killed in accident in Naivasha, this morning . . .. over turned. 11 other were injured. . . "
A mangled body of a Nissan van were shown being pushed to the side of the road . . ..
Groop,....My heart sank like a stone. This all together is getting a little too real now.
I tried not to think too much about it, thinking that. "There must be thousands of these Matatus out there, and one in a thousand, is really statistically insignificant....Yeah...that's right...."
The power went out later that night...
"It is not really safe to go out there in the dark...", the hotel manger said. We really didn't need to get reminded. Living on the notorious River Road, you learn to smarten up REAL quick. Pulled out my head lamp, I started on this new novel I bought, "The Clan of the Cave Bear".
"Boom, Boom ... .Boom ...: The sound of a sub-woofer rocked the windows, and flashing neon color light shine right thought the dusty glass, and lit up the whole room. My brain immediately registered that, something interesting is happening out there.....
I walked over to the window, and saw the most beautiful thing I had saw in the whole Nairobi. Brightly painted in red and yellow, lit with flashing neon lights in it's roof, and under the floor...that van just looked awesome. You can see all the passengers sitting inside, with their white shirts all brightly lit with the black lights. It is like a disco club on wheels.
It's a Matatu!! The very thing I came to see.
It passed in front of the hotel, and managed to lit up the whole neighborhood with its neon lights, ....It was just beautiful!! ... and my desired was again rekindled.
Night 2,
Looking out side the window, from a second story bar. We saw one Matatu after another passing beneath us, each a little different than the next. Playing a different tune, Bob Marley, Jennifer Lopez,....
"Have you tried it yet?", my roommate asked, knowing I am a newbie.
"No. . ., I read about them."
"You have ta, its bloody outrageous. . .." Having spend three months here already, the Norwegian volunteer began another rounds of story telling. You just never runs out of stories, if you are in Nairobi.
"Go check out Lake Nakaru, it's beautiful. You can take a matatu there in the morning, and be back before it gets dark," He said.
"I'll show ya where you can catch one tomorrow, so you can get some genuine Matatu Experience. I need to catch a ride across town anyway."
Day 3,
He walked me down River Road, and pointed at a line of Nissans sitting on the muddy streets, and said, "See that one with the sign on the top? That's the one that goes to the Lake." and he hoop on to his own Matatu and left me there.
Lake Nakaru? Let me think about it...
After some thinking, I decided to walk over to the National Museum across town instead. " It's only 3 kilometers..., walking is always the better way of travel", I remind myself. Deep down, I think that black and white imaged of a mangled Nissan on TV still haunts me.
"Let's tackle Nairobi, before you tackle the Matatu, Lawrence....", and just as I began to walk back...
"Whamp...." I heard this loud thump on my right, and as I turn to look, I saw this large man just being thrown out of this speeding Matatu that he was trying to get off from, and onto the asphalt he goes. His bag of grocery gotten thrown all across the road....
The speeding Matatu, comes to a screeching stop, realizing what they have done. The conductor jumped out, and walked over to the man, sitting there still dazed and confused from the shock. He helped him up, said something to the man in Swahili, and went about gather up all the stuff on the road for him. He then handed him the bag, pat his back, and back onto the Matatu, as if nothing had happened, sped away.
All this, happened in less than two minutes, and the crowd seeing no one is "really" hurt, lost interest and went about their usual business. Leaving the man, still dazed and confused, limping along on his way.
Grop,...I'll walk.
Night 3,
The walking across town is pretty eventless, thought I had been followed several times, but by crossing streets unexpectedly, walking and stopping unexpectedly, and keeping an eye on your back at all times. I had little trouble, but after three days of this, it was starting to take its toll. I can feel my mind going paranoid. I needed to get out of here!! Out of Nairobi!!!
I made a decision. I am going to do it. It is my last chance, and I don't want spend all my whole time in Kenya in Nairobi!!
I am going to take a matatu, and I am going to go to Hell's Gate national Park. The only park around, where you can actually walk, or bike around in the open. I needed get away bad.
Day 4,
I found my Matatu (going to Naivasha) on that very same parking lot a day earlier, hopped in and waited.
And waited, and waited .....
Yup, just as the book said,
"Engine ignition can occur 45 minutes before you leave and is simply a method of attracting passing trade. The same goes for a sudden, but slow, departure (often just a tour of the bus station). Up to five changes of driver may occur during this stage."
--- Rule No.7
Half an hour later, we filled up this little Nissan van with 20 peoples on board , and the van started to move...
Having read "How to Survive a Matatu" more than a few times, I began realized that, you can't really choose you own seat in this thing...so, if you want to follow Rule No.2, and pick "the middle seats in the second row from the back", you have to get on to that van in the right time, just as it is being filled in. Arrive too early, you be squeezed next to the window as it gets filled; arrive to late, you be crouching over someone's knees next to the door. So for all practical reasons, don't even bother to try...
Having being filled, the Matatu was making good progress on the road. The drive took us along the Rift Valley, for some of the most stunning landscapes. All the passengers were more than happy to see some rich Mujungu coming along ... It was just wonderful.
As we make stops along the way, the van took in at times 23 or 24 people. With so many heads and bodies all packed in, it was kind of hard to count,
"There is always room for one more." --- Rule No.8.
I got to Lake Navasia, and got on to anther Matatu, for a 15km hop to the Park. As usual, you waited, and waited, till the van got full. Some time during this wait, someone loaded baskets, and baskets of dried fish under the seats. The fragrance was quite pungent, and it managed to attracted the local fly population. I thought about waiting it outside, but crawling over four or five peoples knees to the door just feel ridiculous.
"Here...", the guy next to me handed me a piece of dried fish he took from underneath the seat., while putting another piece to his mouth.
"Oh....no. Not the dry fish... Not another test...., I am here for the Matatu test, not the dry fish. There is not a thing on the book about the dried fish! I was hoping for some "miraa shoots" (a "non-addictive" and stimulating leafy twigs and shoots that can makes you feel good, but very aggressive, and you can go for days without sleep) experiences, but not the dry fish."
Not knowing how to say no, I took it, and sensing there is more than a few eyes looking my way, I began to nibbled at it, and put on a little smile, and tried not to look too sissy. With the pride of the whole western civilization resting on my shoulders (well,...more like my tongue.). . .
I swallowed.
"Hahaha. . .", The men laughed anyway.
Oh, boy,
It was great to be in Hell's Gate National Park. No need to look over you back at all times, and no guild to tell you where to go, and nothing but the savannas, the zebras, and a school of crazy baboons trying to take foods from kids. I was free. . . and I wandered around the park well into the sunset.
Then, I remembered something. . ., something about that last bus back to Nairobi, and something about...
"Avoid night journeys . . . " --- Rule No. 5
I hurried back to the main road, just in time to see a matatu ready to leave. I ran for it, and luckily they waited. (They would never leave a Mujungu stranded if they can help it). The conductor got out of his seat out front and waved me over, left the front door open for me . . .
"Under no circumstances allow yourself to be placed in the 'Death Seat' next to the driver - extra leg-room and the occasional shoot of miraa do not outweigh the disadvantage of certain death in the event of a head-on collision."
--- Rule No.1
Ohhh.., No. Not the "Death Seat", I am not ready for the "Death Seat"...
I looked at the back of the van, and saw it packed to the breaking point. I look at the end of the road hoping to find another matatu, . . .no luck. I looked further to the horizon, and find the sun fast setting.... I look back at the conductor, whom kindly offered his "prized" seat for this mujungu, and ... they waited for me. "You can't say no now!! Lawrence."
I got in,
There is already three guys sitting in the front row already, there is no room. (Remember, this is a Nissan van, not the one that are build for our big fat American asses, this one is build for the Japanese market), so I ended up sitting on top of this guy's lap, with my face 12 inches from the windshield, Seat belt? Haha...that's funny.
I called this , the "Death Seat ++".
The van got moving. I looked back and found the conductor whom had offered me his "seat" daggling outside of the van.
"Oh, Man.....If this guy falls, I don't know if I can live with the fact, that it is me that took his seat...."
The van starts to pick up speed, and I watched the needle going up, and up.....30kph, 40kph, 70kph,...
I was scared.
Apparently, so is the conductor. He moved from dangling over the sliding door in the back, and up to the front (all while it's going 90kph). He lean his body in through the window, and have me grabbing on to his belt with him leaning over my lap, and with half of his body still out side.
"If the locals look nervous you have a problem." --- Rule No.6
Then, this evil thought, crept up from my brain, ". . .at lease there is some cushioning, between me and that windshield, now. . .."
With his conductor "inside", the driver mad a final push to his paddles, and we got to around 120kph eventually. Fortunately, some passengers got off during the stops. and the conductor and I went back to sitting in the back rows. It was good to be seating at the back.
Then, that's when it got dark. . ..
To Be Continued....
Having first read about them on the Lonely Planet, I was immediately intrigued. I had seen some of its relatives cruising the streets in Tanzania, and even rode on one of its distant cousins, call the Dalla-Dallas. But, a Dalla-Dalla is Dalla-Dalla, NOT a Matatu. A Matatu is a totally different kind of beast all together, as far as transports are concerned....This is a totally unique specie, indigenous only to Kenya.
How to Survive a Matatu East Africa, Lonely Planet
Matatus are more than just transport. They are Kenya's contribution to world culture, These gaudily painted minibuses with 200-decibel stereo systems have a crew of three: the driver, who normally hasn't slept for three days, keeping himself going by chewing miraa shoots; the conductor, who extracts fares from reluctant passengers; and the tout, a veritable Daddy Cool whose aerial gymnastics on the outside of the minibus ought to be an Olympic event. Governmental efforts to regulate the matatu industry have reduced decibel levels, but not much more,
Matatu travel is not exactly a bed of roses. In fact, as one look at the Daily Nation will tell you, the beds most often associated with matatus are the ones in hospitals, so there are a few rules and principles you should be aware of:
Under no circumstances allow yourself to be placed in the 'Death Seat' next to the driver - extra leg-room and the occasional shoot of miraa do not outweigh the disadvantage of certain death in the event of a head-on collision.
Just which are the best seats in a matatu is debatable. The two rows behind the driver should be avoided for safety reasons, while the back seat is a pain in the neck for tall people. Sitting next to the window is OK, but you'll bang your head when crossing rough ground. Wedged in like a sardine on the middle two seats in the second row from the back you'll be better protected in the event of a head-on collision, overturning on 'a sharp corner or any end-over-end Evil Knevel-type stunts. Fight for these seats.
Don't voluntarily get into a matatu named 'Death or Glory', 'White Lightning', 'Get in & Die', 'Velocity' or 'Beat the Reaper' for obvious reasons.
Valium is available over the counter in Kenya.
Avoid night journeys because of drunk drivers and the lack of adequate/any lights on many vehicles. However, it's been suggested that matatu standard operating procedure (overtaking on blind bends, below the crest of steep hills etc) makes traveling at night a safer option. At least headlights warn of an oncoming vehicle, if it has any headlights ...
If the locals look nervous you have a problem.
Engine ignition can occur 45 minutes before you leave and is simply a method of attracting passing trade. The same goes for a sudden, but slow, departure (often just a tour of the bus station). Up to five changes of driver may occur during this stage.
There is always room for one more.
Getting into a passing half-empty matatu is not always a good idea if the crew is just trawling the streets in an effort to fill the vehicle. At the bus station numerous touts will try and fill the vehicle which will speed up your journey. Not that it'll require much speeding up.
A pot-holed road is a good road. It slows you down.
Having spend all my money on climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro, and the Safari. With little time and money left, I had decided this will be my next cheap thrill. I was not disappointed.
Night 1,
Having made my way to the hostel under police escort, I decided to sit in, and wait for morning. Having spend nearly 12 hours on a bus between Dar es Salaam and Nairobi, and having little to eat. I settled in at the stringy little hotel lobby, to watch a little TV. The news came on ....
"Five killed in accident in Naivasha, this morning . . .. over turned. 11 other were injured. . . "
A mangled body of a Nissan van were shown being pushed to the side of the road . . ..
Groop,....My heart sank like a stone. This all together is getting a little too real now.
I tried not to think too much about it, thinking that. "There must be thousands of these Matatus out there, and one in a thousand, is really statistically insignificant....Yeah...that's right...."
The power went out later that night...
"It is not really safe to go out there in the dark...", the hotel manger said. We really didn't need to get reminded. Living on the notorious River Road, you learn to smarten up REAL quick. Pulled out my head lamp, I started on this new novel I bought, "The Clan of the Cave Bear".
"Boom, Boom ... .Boom ...: The sound of a sub-woofer rocked the windows, and flashing neon color light shine right thought the dusty glass, and lit up the whole room. My brain immediately registered that, something interesting is happening out there.....
I walked over to the window, and saw the most beautiful thing I had saw in the whole Nairobi. Brightly painted in red and yellow, lit with flashing neon lights in it's roof, and under the floor...that van just looked awesome. You can see all the passengers sitting inside, with their white shirts all brightly lit with the black lights. It is like a disco club on wheels.
It's a Matatu!! The very thing I came to see.
It passed in front of the hotel, and managed to lit up the whole neighborhood with its neon lights, ....It was just beautiful!! ... and my desired was again rekindled.
Night 2,
Looking out side the window, from a second story bar. We saw one Matatu after another passing beneath us, each a little different than the next. Playing a different tune, Bob Marley, Jennifer Lopez,....
"Have you tried it yet?", my roommate asked, knowing I am a newbie.
"No. . ., I read about them."
"You have ta, its bloody outrageous. . .." Having spend three months here already, the Norwegian volunteer began another rounds of story telling. You just never runs out of stories, if you are in Nairobi.
"Go check out Lake Nakaru, it's beautiful. You can take a matatu there in the morning, and be back before it gets dark," He said.
"I'll show ya where you can catch one tomorrow, so you can get some genuine Matatu Experience. I need to catch a ride across town anyway."
Day 3,
He walked me down River Road, and pointed at a line of Nissans sitting on the muddy streets, and said, "See that one with the sign on the top? That's the one that goes to the Lake." and he hoop on to his own Matatu and left me there.
Lake Nakaru? Let me think about it...
After some thinking, I decided to walk over to the National Museum across town instead. " It's only 3 kilometers..., walking is always the better way of travel", I remind myself. Deep down, I think that black and white imaged of a mangled Nissan on TV still haunts me.
"Let's tackle Nairobi, before you tackle the Matatu, Lawrence....", and just as I began to walk back...
"Whamp...." I heard this loud thump on my right, and as I turn to look, I saw this large man just being thrown out of this speeding Matatu that he was trying to get off from, and onto the asphalt he goes. His bag of grocery gotten thrown all across the road....
The speeding Matatu, comes to a screeching stop, realizing what they have done. The conductor jumped out, and walked over to the man, sitting there still dazed and confused from the shock. He helped him up, said something to the man in Swahili, and went about gather up all the stuff on the road for him. He then handed him the bag, pat his back, and back onto the Matatu, as if nothing had happened, sped away.
All this, happened in less than two minutes, and the crowd seeing no one is "really" hurt, lost interest and went about their usual business. Leaving the man, still dazed and confused, limping along on his way.
Grop,...I'll walk.
Night 3,
The walking across town is pretty eventless, thought I had been followed several times, but by crossing streets unexpectedly, walking and stopping unexpectedly, and keeping an eye on your back at all times. I had little trouble, but after three days of this, it was starting to take its toll. I can feel my mind going paranoid. I needed to get out of here!! Out of Nairobi!!!
I made a decision. I am going to do it. It is my last chance, and I don't want spend all my whole time in Kenya in Nairobi!!
I am going to take a matatu, and I am going to go to Hell's Gate national Park. The only park around, where you can actually walk, or bike around in the open. I needed get away bad.
Day 4,
I found my Matatu (going to Naivasha) on that very same parking lot a day earlier, hopped in and waited.
And waited, and waited .....
Yup, just as the book said,
"Engine ignition can occur 45 minutes before you leave and is simply a method of attracting passing trade. The same goes for a sudden, but slow, departure (often just a tour of the bus station). Up to five changes of driver may occur during this stage."
--- Rule No.7
Half an hour later, we filled up this little Nissan van with 20 peoples on board , and the van started to move...
Having read "How to Survive a Matatu" more than a few times, I began realized that, you can't really choose you own seat in this thing...so, if you want to follow Rule No.2, and pick "the middle seats in the second row from the back", you have to get on to that van in the right time, just as it is being filled in. Arrive too early, you be squeezed next to the window as it gets filled; arrive to late, you be crouching over someone's knees next to the door. So for all practical reasons, don't even bother to try...
Having being filled, the Matatu was making good progress on the road. The drive took us along the Rift Valley, for some of the most stunning landscapes. All the passengers were more than happy to see some rich Mujungu coming along ... It was just wonderful.
As we make stops along the way, the van took in at times 23 or 24 people. With so many heads and bodies all packed in, it was kind of hard to count,
"There is always room for one more." --- Rule No.8.
I got to Lake Navasia, and got on to anther Matatu, for a 15km hop to the Park. As usual, you waited, and waited, till the van got full. Some time during this wait, someone loaded baskets, and baskets of dried fish under the seats. The fragrance was quite pungent, and it managed to attracted the local fly population. I thought about waiting it outside, but crawling over four or five peoples knees to the door just feel ridiculous.
"Here...", the guy next to me handed me a piece of dried fish he took from underneath the seat., while putting another piece to his mouth.
"Oh....no. Not the dry fish... Not another test...., I am here for the Matatu test, not the dry fish. There is not a thing on the book about the dried fish! I was hoping for some "miraa shoots" (a "non-addictive" and stimulating leafy twigs and shoots that can makes you feel good, but very aggressive, and you can go for days without sleep) experiences, but not the dry fish."
Not knowing how to say no, I took it, and sensing there is more than a few eyes looking my way, I began to nibbled at it, and put on a little smile, and tried not to look too sissy. With the pride of the whole western civilization resting on my shoulders (well,...more like my tongue.). . .
I swallowed.
"Hahaha. . .", The men laughed anyway.
Oh, boy,
It was great to be in Hell's Gate National Park. No need to look over you back at all times, and no guild to tell you where to go, and nothing but the savannas, the zebras, and a school of crazy baboons trying to take foods from kids. I was free. . . and I wandered around the park well into the sunset.
Then, I remembered something. . ., something about that last bus back to Nairobi, and something about...
"Avoid night journeys . . . " --- Rule No. 5
I hurried back to the main road, just in time to see a matatu ready to leave. I ran for it, and luckily they waited. (They would never leave a Mujungu stranded if they can help it). The conductor got out of his seat out front and waved me over, left the front door open for me . . .
"Under no circumstances allow yourself to be placed in the 'Death Seat' next to the driver - extra leg-room and the occasional shoot of miraa do not outweigh the disadvantage of certain death in the event of a head-on collision."
--- Rule No.1
Ohhh.., No. Not the "Death Seat", I am not ready for the "Death Seat"...
I looked at the back of the van, and saw it packed to the breaking point. I look at the end of the road hoping to find another matatu, . . .no luck. I looked further to the horizon, and find the sun fast setting.... I look back at the conductor, whom kindly offered his "prized" seat for this mujungu, and ... they waited for me. "You can't say no now!! Lawrence."
I got in,
There is already three guys sitting in the front row already, there is no room. (Remember, this is a Nissan van, not the one that are build for our big fat American asses, this one is build for the Japanese market), so I ended up sitting on top of this guy's lap, with my face 12 inches from the windshield, Seat belt? Haha...that's funny.
I called this , the "Death Seat ++".
The van got moving. I looked back and found the conductor whom had offered me his "seat" daggling outside of the van.
"Oh, Man.....If this guy falls, I don't know if I can live with the fact, that it is me that took his seat...."
The van starts to pick up speed, and I watched the needle going up, and up.....30kph, 40kph, 70kph,...
I was scared.
Apparently, so is the conductor. He moved from dangling over the sliding door in the back, and up to the front (all while it's going 90kph). He lean his body in through the window, and have me grabbing on to his belt with him leaning over my lap, and with half of his body still out side.
"If the locals look nervous you have a problem." --- Rule No.6
Then, this evil thought, crept up from my brain, ". . .at lease there is some cushioning, between me and that windshield, now. . .."
With his conductor "inside", the driver mad a final push to his paddles, and we got to around 120kph eventually. Fortunately, some passengers got off during the stops. and the conductor and I went back to sitting in the back rows. It was good to be seating at the back.
Then, that's when it got dark. . ..
To Be Continued....
posted by 54 at 12:53 AM
1 Comments:
Am a kenyan girl living in carlifonia usa.am glad you partly enjoyed the matatu ordeal.nwei,matatus are the thing i miss most about kenya and ofcourse the music.good day
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