One, Two, Three - Stall!

Ok I am sure most of you remember when you first learnt to drive. But how many of you learnt in a car which has an almost burnt out clutch, no power steering and if memory serves me correctly it was similar to the Flintstones' car (in that if you looked down you could see parts of the road beneath you). Yep my aunts little coast run around was the car of choice. It was terrible. Not only did take about 20 minutes to get going, every time you changed gear it made a sound similar to a tree falling down.

That’s not to say that I haven’t had some great times in that car, for example when my friend (who for discretion wishes to remain anonymous) drove us out once – classic Kenyan driving. It involved not changing gear, driving on the wrong side of the road, swerving to miss a lorry and almost crashing into a lorry. I will take this opportunity to point out that this is the same person who hit a cow whilst learning to drive, so why I ever let her take the wheel is beyond me, though in her words “it jumped out of a ditch”.

Now driving in Kenya is no easy feat – not only do all pedestrians seem to have a death wish, but our roads are blessed with Matatu’s. Matatu’s are mini buses. By law they are only allowed to carry 14 passengers (so every single one has about 24 people squished into it). The rule for matatu’s is “Eh? there is always room for one more” as told to me by a matatu driver who was trying in vain to make me pay a ‘mzungu’ or white man price. Now when these guys drive not only do they not use their mirrors, but they stop in the middle of the road as they please to unload, reload or just have a chat. They are the bane of my driving life. On the other hand they are brilliant forms of transport – door to door service for under a pound – what more could you want? Once you have learnt to ignore the chickens, loud music and constant debates about politics, they are actually quite fun.

It always entertains me when I see an uptight tourist shudder at the driving in this country; they all shudder at the thought of not wearing seat belts and overtaking with oncoming traffic. I had a tourist staying with me recently who refused to get on a matatu and chose to drive with me instead, as karma would have it the car broke down. Ignoring her remarking under her breath that it was just me stalling (difficult to do when the car won’t start) we finally got her to admit that she knew absolutely nothing about mechanics – ignorance is bliss hey! Lucky for me I had two other friends with me who took Africa in their stride and were quite happy chilling on the side of the road, eating roadside bought corn and laughing at the situation.

The funny thing is - I have adapted to driving out here; slowing down for potholes bigger than my car (in the words of the MP for roads “we have to make them big so they are visible, then we will fix them”, needless to say the latter never gets done) not hesitating when overtaking, and praying that my car will make it up a hill in second gear. Driving in England however – now that scares me!