There are two things that I really
struggle with when riding the taxis. The
first is that the taxi doesn’t depart until it is full so you never know when
you will leave. The other problem I have
is that they are always so hot! For some reason no one likes having windows
open no matter how hot it gets so I often arrive at my destination feeling
sweaty and gross. Somehow I often get
stuck in the back row which is the only row that they cram four people
into. Oftentimes the last person to get
in that row has to wedge themselves into a four-inch space. Not much fun.
Last week, when I was going to
Pietermaritzburg, my tolerance for the taxis was maxing out. Going from Estcourt to PMB only takes about
an hour but waiting for over an hour for it the taxi to fill is more the rule
than the exception. This time, after 90
minutes of waiting, the taxi was full but for some reason the rank manager
decided we should go in a different taxi so all 15 of us had to get out and
move to another taxi. I had been in the
back by a window which was great because then I could control how hot it was by
me. However, upon moving to the other
taxi I ended up being the last one to have to squeeze into the back row, of
course. After squeezing into a spot barely large enough for a small child we
were on our way but with no control of the windows it naturally got very warm. I
got to PMB and told Elise, another volunteer, that I don’t know how many more
of those I’m going to be able to handle!
Then, right on cue, my return trip to Estcourt was very different.
Because there are so many taxis in
one rank it can become confusing and difficult to find the one that is going
where you need. On my way back to
Estcourt we had just gotten on the interstate when an older woman a few rows
ahead of me started asking about where the taxi was going. Granted, I couldn’t understand most of the
conversation as it was in Zulu but I did hear her saying, “Tugela” several
times which is another hour past Estcourt.
She was realizing, too late, that she had gotten on the wrong taxi.
She soon began to cry as she did
not have enough money to then make the trip from Estcourt to Tugela. Without pause, a girl sitting next to her
began asking everyone to put some money together for her. Through everyone’s donations the woman was
given R75, more than enough to make the next leg of her journey.
I watched the whole thing in awe
and humility. God knew that this was
just the thing I needed to renew my spirit as frustration and annoyance had
begun to take over. “Umuntu ngumuntu
ngabantu” is a Zulu expression meaning, “A person is a person through people.”
In other words, we do not get where we are solely by ourselves. There are so many people around us that make
us who we are and help us along the way. The spirit of Ubuntu filled that taxi
as a group of strangers were willing to help another stranger for no benefit of
their own. Such a small but awesome experience
to be a part of and one I will not soon forget!
“Africans believe in something that
is difficult to render in English. We call it ubuntu or botho. It
means the essence of being human. It speaks about humaneness, gentleness,
hospitality, putting yourself out on behalf of others, being vulnerable.
It embraces compassion and toughness. It recognizes that my humanity is
bound up with yours, for we can only be human together."
-- Archbishop Desmond Tutu
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